


The Demons in My Head

by hotchoco195



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Drug-Induced Sex, Gen, Kidnapping, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Secrets, Self-Doubt, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Natasha get captured, with terrible and painful consequences for both. Nat hates feeling helpless; Bruce just hates himself. But she's going to get things back to normal, even if she has to drag him kicking and screaming the whole way there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demons in My Head

There was a very strict chore roster at Avengers Tower. Tony had initially protested that nobody needed to do them since he was rich enough to pay for an army of servants, but Steve said it was good teambuilding to all pitch in and care for their home, and Fury said bringing in outsiders was a security risk. So Pepper drew up a schedule and made sure they stuck to it.

Steve did the dishes because he wasn’t much of a cook, and Tony dried because the captain was strong enough to drag the billionaire into the kitchen when he tried to shirk his duty and they both knew it. Thor gathered their laundry and bagged it for the drycleaners, and put the clean stuff back in their rooms, because he was a bit too clumsy to be trusted with a vacuum cleaner or mop or really anything that might put holes in the wall with a careless swipe. Clint was an expert at vanishing when it came time for chores, so Pepper assigned him to cleaning windows, since at least that had the incentive of giving him a better view.

Bruce and Natasha ended up as the grocery-getters, because they were two of the least recognisable Avengers and the most efficient when it came to lists and stores layouts. Natasha remembered everyone’s likes and dislikes, and Bruce was good at weeding out the overly processed junk based on cryptic ingredient lists, and they worked well together. They were both quiet, both preferring to go unnoticed in crowds, and they got the weekly shop done without the arguing that would have happened if the team had sent anyone else.

The pair stepped into the store, a list in Natasha’s hand, Bruce grabbing baskets for them both.

“I’ll hit greens and dairy if you wanna start on staples.”

“Meet you in the cereals.” He nodded, heading towards the aisles.

Bruce went straight for the tea and coffee; they were always running low, even with Tony’s fancy espresso machine. And they’d need sugar too, and sweetener for Clint, and honey for Pepper. He loaded up and circled into the next aisle, tossing in a couple of loaves of rye and one token sliced white for Tony.

He was perusing the spreads, trying to remember how much peanut butter had survived the last movie night, when a familiar tingle ran up his spine into the base of his skull. He stopped, frowning as he looked around. The store looked completely ordinary, the customers ignoring him but not suspiciously, and yet he knew something was off – or Hulk knew, in his own strange primeval ways.

Bruce couldn’t see a reason to panic but he decided there was no harm finding Natasha anyway; two pairs of eyes and ears were better than one, and maybe she’d noticed something too. Or maybe he was crazy, and she could calm him down and get on with the shopping.

He rounded the shelves, heading quickly for the freezer section. At the last junction, he ran straight into the front of a trolley as its elderly driver came out of the aisle.

“Gosh, I’m sorry,” Bruce caught her as she stumbled, “Are you okay?”

“No harm done, dear.” She smiled, patting his arm.

Bruce gasped as something pierced him through the sleeve of his shirt, looking down at her hand half-stunned. The old woman was still beaming at him kindly but her grip was firm now, too solid for him to break. That was ridiculous, because she looked like she was made of china and he was...he was...

The world swung wildly around him as he fell, the woman clucking her tongue sadly. The Hulk stirred in the back of his head but everything was so murky and faraway, and Bruce was slipping away.

“Sorry dear.”

 

Natasha roamed through the open bins of fruit and veg, looking over the produce. She tugged a plastic bag out of the dispenser and started squeezing tomatoes, examining the skins. The redhead popped three in the bag and twisted the top closed, placing it in her basket gently.

There was a soft click in the air above her, about four feet to her left, and Natasha threw herself flat as a dart zipped past into a nearby watermelon. She kept moving, not looking at the shooter as she slithered along between the displays. Her first thought was to find Bruce before he Hulked out, and to then get the hell out of there. It would mean going towards her assailant but she didn’t have a choice. Natasha rolled to her feet and ran, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t risk hitting a civilian.

She only made it two aisles down before finding Bruce slumped against the shelves at the far end, a man in the store uniform talking to an older woman as he lifted the scientist. Natasha hit the distress button on her belt buckle and ran towards them, launching herself off a stack of boxes. Her feet connected with the old woman’s shoulders and they both went down, the agent rolling clear to swipe her leg at the guy carrying Bruce. He fell with a grunt, dropping the older man.

Then the dart hit her in the neck and she swore, glancing up in time to see a hooded man crouching on top of the aisle before everything turned black.

*****

Natasha had been captured a lot in her time, and it was always the same. Kidnappers rarely showed any originality, no matter how clever they were (or thought they were). She kept her eyes closed as she catalogued her body, checking for breaks or sprains with tiny, invisible clenches of her muscles. She didn’t seem injured beyond the throbbing in her head from the sedative, and she was clothed but not in her own gear. It was too loose, too rough – plain cotton scrubs, she’d guess. They were smart enough not to trust her clothes; she hoped her stuff was still nearby, or the tracker in her belt wasn’t going to do much good. She was restrained, hands behind her back, metal cuffs with no obvious clasps as far as she could feel. She was sitting on a cold, hard floor, back against what felt like metal bars. And somebody was screaming – somebody she knew.

Natasha opened her eyes. She was in a warehouse, in an actual cage with mesh sides. The area around her was dim. Further out was a huge setup with lots of spotlights and equipment trolleys and power cords trailing off to distant corners. Bruce hung from a set of shackles that were cemented into the ground and anchored in a dozen other places with chains. He was shirtless, his torso streaked with sweat and his chin dripping blood where he’d bitten through his lip. Lots of people were watching and whispering over monitors and tablets, while two men stood on either side of him with cattle prods. Nat’s heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of the wicked-looking black staffs.

“Again.” Someone said.

The handlers jammed their weapons against Bruce’s sides and he screamed, body shuddering, hands yanking at his restraints. The shock stopped and he went limp again, sobbing quietly.

Nat didn’t understand. Why hadn’t he Hulked out yet? He should have turned the second their attackers appeared at the grocery store. Their captors’ chains were good but not helicarrier cell good; Bruce could have been free in seconds if he transformed. The distraction of the pain shouldn’t have been an obstacle, which meant they had to be inhibiting the change somehow, probably chemically. Nat didn’t even want to think about the kind of people who could create an effective Hulk tranquiliser when the guy himself had never managed it, and she sure as hell didn’t want to stay and find out what else they could do.

She started looking for guards and found them, lining the edges of the warehouse and armed with tranq guns by the look of them. But her cage was unattended, possibly because they thought she was still asleep but more likely because they were distracted by the roaring, convulsing scientist in the middle of the room. She could get out of the cuffs, but the cage was harder. She’d need a key, which meant she had to wait, which meant listening to them torture Bruce until someone remembered she was there.

Natasha waited for a lull in activity and leaned as far forward as she could, rattling the cuffs against the cage bars. “Hey! Hey! Leave him alone!”

There was a pause, lots of people looking at each other as if searching for someone with the authority to deal with the unfortunate interruption – or maybe they’d just been so absorbed they _had_ forgotten she was there. Which begged the question, why bring her at all? They were clearly more interested in Bruce.

Finally a blonde woman with her hair pulled back and very severe glasses walked over, a guard following when she flicked her fingers, heels tapping on the concrete. She stopped in front of the cage and smiled.

“Agent Romanov. You’ve returned to us.”

“Lucky me. Who’s ‘us’?”

“All in good time.”

“What are you doing to Dr Banner?”

“He’s helping us with our studies. I understand it may be distressing for you to watch but our space is limited.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing? How dangerous he is?”

The blonde smiled. “Yes, Agent Romanov. We know exactly who we’re dealing with, and I assure you we’re a lot more prepared than SHIELD were.”

The woman went back to the circle of light around Bruce, his ragged gasps cut off by another surge of electricity. The guard stayed with Natasha, but his eyes strayed back to the struggling prisoner. Nat rested her head back against the mesh and closed her eyes, but it didn’t help with the sounds.

 

She estimated it had been three hours, and in that time they’d injected Bruce with four different formulas. Apparently the blonde woman was right when she said they had prepared; nobody performed any procedures without full hazmat gear, and they immediately incinerated the equipment. It didn’t add up: if they weren’t trying to extract the secrets of the Hulk, what did they need him for? Was he just a test subject who could stand up to whatever they were doing?

Nat waited, running through escape plans to distract herself from Bruce’s suffering. The closest door was too small to lead outside in a warehouse this big, which meant they’d likely have to get through a series of offices or storerooms to reach the exterior. She couldn’t count on Bruce’s ability to Hulk out, or even walk, and she couldn’t wait for SHIELD to find them. Once they got outside (if they got outside) transport and location were the next two obstacles. Not to mention that there could be a whole private army out there she didn’t know about.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t let this continue, and she couldn’t wait to see if their captors pulled out something worse.

Nat worked her thumbs back and forth quietly, eyes on the guard. He was starting to get bored, and leaning too close to the cage. Her joints popped out with a click, and she wiggled her hands out of the cuffs. Natasha relocated her bones as she assessed the room. There were less people now, the spectators whittled down to the real interested parties. The talkative blonde was gone, and the cattle prod guys, but there were about half a dozen people taking readings and whacking Bruce’s nerve clusters with blunt pointers, and the same ten or so guards that had been there since the start. That was a mistake; they’d be tired and less alert by now.

She stood and crossed the cage silently, slipping a hand through the grating to grab the back of the guard’s vest and seizing his hair with the other, yanking hard. His neck snapped, head drooping, but she held him up against the bars while she felt around his waist for a key. There was nothing, but he had a small combat knife. She unsheathed it and jimmied the point into the lock. The cage was made for holding cargo, not people, and it popped open easily.

Nat opened the door and stepped out, taking the guard’s tranq gun and lowering him to the ground. The rifle was single shot and useless, but she could see the butt of a handgun just inside his vest. She drew it, recognising the model. She had thirteen shots. That wouldn’t cover the soldiers _and_ the scientists, but hopefully she wouldn’t need to use it at all, because thirteen gunshots were very attention-grabbing.

Natasha got as far forward as she could before anyone noticed and stopped, pointing the gun at Bruce as the guards levelled their rifles at her.

“You don’t wanna do that!” she yelled, eying them, “Whatever you’ve done to keep him human makes him vulnerable. I could kill him now. What would your bosses say about that?”

The scientists or doctors or whoever they were looked at each other. Bruce raised his head weakly, gaze unfocused as he squinted at her.

“Tasha? Tasha, you’ve got to get out of here.”

“Quiet. You, weapons down.” She nodded at the guards.

They slowly obeyed, movements careful and considered. Nat barely took her eyes off Bruce.

“Faces to the wall. You too.” The redhead gestured to the workers.

They shuffled away together like a herd of nervous meerkats, and she moved closer to her friend.

“Bruce?” Nat whispered, “Bruce, can you hear me?”

“Tasha…”

 

“We don’t have much time. They’ll have cameras, and probably more men. Can you walk?”

“You have to…get out…”

“Not without you.”

“I’m not worth it.” He chuckled tiredly.

She ignored that, since it didn’t help either of them. “Do you have any idea what they did to you, whether or not you can change?”

“I…can feel him,” he pointed to his head with a shaking hand, “He’s trying so hard to…”

“Okay. Sorry about this.”

Natasha shot the connections between his shackles and the chains, catching Bruce with an arm around his ribs as his legs gave out, and immediately started dragging him backwards to the door with her gun to the doctor’s temple.

“You won’t do it.”

Natasha stopped, looking up. The blonde was leaning over a railing on the second floor, watching with bemusement.

“I will.”

“He’s your teammate.”

“If you really knew my history, you’d know I’m not big on sentimental attachments.”

“You would not be trying to save him at all if he meant so little to you.”

“He’s an asset. I’m just doing my job.”

Bruce stirred, hand catching at her chest as he groaned. Natasha tightened her grip.

“He is a threat, Agent Romanov, one your agency would shed no tears over if you made use of this rare opportunity and disposed of. Take her out.”

The soldiers dived for their guns and Nat tensed up, swinging the gun towards the woman. She was about to shove Bruce behind her when the doctor shrieked, falling onto his hands and knees.

“Bruce?”

“Dr Banner?” the blonde asked, hands gripping the rail as she leaned over.

The man burst outwards, Hulk swinging his huge fists like wrecking balls and smashing the line of soldiers behind him into the far wall. Nat fired on the guards reaching for their guns, downing them quickly as the kidnapper’s medicos ran for cover. Natasha turned back to the woman above them to find her already leaving. She was about to give chase when Hulk groaned and faltered in the middle of destroying the lab equipment.

“Bruce!”

He collapsed, body changing in jerky, unnatural motions, until he was human again – and unconscious. Nat ran forward and pulled him to his feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The mysterious woman could wait; she had to get them out of here.

 

Gun up, she dragged Bruce over the flattened and unmoving bodies of the guards, shouldering the door open. There was a long passage with sub-par flickering lights and no other doors. She couldn’t hear any activity but that didn’t mean they were alone.

“Come on.” Nat whispered, taking cautious plodding steps forward as fast as she could.

Bruce coughed, a hacking horrible noise, and she stopped to check him over. He was bruised and dirty but didn’t seem to have any serious wounds. He snapped his head up, gazing at her pleadingly.

“Tasha...”

“You okay? We’re almost out.”

He reeled back, breaking free of her hold and slamming into the wall as his joints popped. The scientist hunched forward, skin turning green and she froze up. Hulk knew Natasha wasn’t an enemy, but right now he was half-crazed and confused and trapped, and she couldn’t count on him being reasonable.

“Bruce? Bruce, listen to me. Bruce?” she watched his face as he squirmed in pain, “Hulk?”

“Tasha!” he bellowed, the shout bouncing off the hard flat walls to boom in her ears a second time.

“Yes,” she smiled, trying to keep her breathing steady, “We need to leave now.”

She turned and ran, hoping he’d follow, and was rewarded by the pounding of his feet against the floor. There was a thick metal door dead ahead of them, and Nat moved aside to let Hulk take a run at it. He snarled and lowered his head, shoulder popping it right out of the frame as he ploughed through the wall.

They were in an open forecourt, Jeeps parked in a row under a metal shelter, a few other factory buildings around and a high fence beyond that. It was dark, the exterior lighting even worse than the warehouse, but Nat could see the outlines of men aiming at them from behind the crates and platforms that littered the yard. Hulk growled and picked up a flatbed truck, sending it sailing into a group of fighters as he jumped onto a separate nest. Nat ducked from cover to cover until she reached a dead guard and took his semi-automatic, looking for her next target.

Hulk picked up a Jeep to squash a cowering soldier and stopped, swaying. The car fell with a crash as Hulk dropped to his knees, quivering and howling as he started to change back. Nat swore and slid over the bonnet of a forklift, running to stand watch over him. If he was so unstable, they couldn’t take a car. Hulk would blow any vehicle wide open on his next transformation. She needed a way to get a message to the Avengers but her first priority was Bruce, and getting him somewhere safe for both him and any civilians that might be around.

Nat fired at the men who hadn’t fled as soon as they saw the Hulk, dragging Bruce towards a car. She’d get them as far from the compound as possible while he was still passed out, then find a spot to hide until they could be retrieved. If she had to actively keep him unconscious, she would, but not until she knew they didn’t need Hulk.

The redhead manhandled him into the backseat and jumped into the front, punching the ignition switch. She floored it, reversing into a guard shooting at their tyres and tearing off straight through the gate, which crumpled like paper and flew off into the bushes.

 

Natasha expected them to give chase, if there was anyone left still in a condition to do so. She tried to get her bearings quickly. They were in a wooded area, one road leading away from the facility, still in the US by the looks of the trees – which was comforting. She didn’t know how far they were from civilisation but probably awhile, considering the noise factor of their experiments. If their captors had driven them from the grocery store, that might put them in upstate New York or a more secluded part of Jersey, possibly even Connecticut or Massachusetts.

She checked her rear view mirror for headlights but there was nothing. Bruce whimpered in the back and she glanced over her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Where are we?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m gonna get us home, alright?”

“Nat, I think I’m ch-” he stopped abruptly, body roiling on the seat.

“Can you control it?”

“I can’t even move.”

The Russian bit her lip and pulled over, driving between the trees until they couldn’t see the road. She threw the door open and jumped out, opening the back door to place her hands on either side of Bruce’s face.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Listen to me, Bruce, whatever they’ve done to you doesn’t seem to be wearing off anytime soon. I need you to try to keep Hulk contained, okay? We can’t afford to attract attention in case people are looking for us.”

“I can’t...I can’t...Tash, there are so many things in my head.”

“Tell me.”

His whole body shook, voice pained. “So much rage, like a wall in my mind, and he’s screaming for blood. And the drugs...whatever they gave me, it makes me feel disconnected. From him and reality. I feel trapped.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Knock me out. I need to metabolise the drugs out of my system, and until then I won’t be able to stop him.”

Nat nodded and slid her hand under his head, pressing her thumb to the pressure point on his neck. She shifted her grip and the scientist immediately went limp. She checked Bruce’s pulse, satisfied he was okay.

Natasha stepped away from the car, studying the trail they’d left from the road. It was noticeable enough that anyone following them probably wouldn’t miss it, though it might be overlooked if they didn’t expect her to pull over. She had a couple of rounds left in her stolen gun, but not enough to take down a force of any real size, and there was no radio or phone in the car. She needed backup.

Nat walked back to the vehicle, thinking she might as well check the trunk just in case, when the door flew open and Bruce lowered his bare feet to the ground.

“Bruce?”

He looked up sharply, eyes glowing a radioactive green, and she threw her hands up.

“It’s Tasha, yeah? You’re okay. We’re gonna get you back to the Tower.”

Something was wrong. He wasn’t growing or changing colour, but he seemed much more in control of his body than he’d been before. At the warehouse he couldn’t walk, and now he was approaching her with the wary steps of an animal that scented danger.

“Bruce? Hulk?”

He tilted his head, sniffing, and growled low in his throat. This was an unknown hybrid, not Bruce or his alter ego but somewhere in between, and it didn’t seem to be moving one way or the other. Natasha wasn’t sure if she should be relieved he’d seemed to stabilise, or incredibly vigilant.

 

He was watching her too closely, the strange light of his eyes standing out like neon pinpoints in the darkness. She took a breath.

“The others will be looking for us, and you know Tony and Steve will tear the whole countryside apart if they have to. They can’t be far away now. We just need to wait quietly and calmly.”

Bruce gave a bark like an ape and she flinched.

“Can you speak? Do you understand me?”

He came even closer, nose almost touching her neck as he leaned in and sniffed her. Nat stayed completely still, eyes straight ahead as he pawed at her hair and shoulders, hands feeling down her arms and then up her ribs. Maybe he was checking for injuries?

“I’m not hurt. I just want to keep you safe, okay?” she fought not to take a step back as he patted at her collar bone and almost knocked her off balance. He might not be Hulk-sized, but he had his Hulk strength, and that was a terrifying prospect.

The Bruce-Hulk mixture gave a deafening grunt and grabbed her wrists, hauling her over his shoulder. He dropped on all fours and took off into the woods, galloping along with a hand holding her to him, ignoring her wriggling like he didn’t even feel it.

“Bruce, put me down!” she gasped, dark shapes of trees flying past as he hopped over logs and rocks.

The man stopped, flinging her to the ground hard enough to wind her. Nat groaned, coughing, and then he was on top of her, staring with those eerie uncomprehending eyes.

“Bruce,” she tried to force out breathlessly, “Bruce, calm down. You can control this, alright? I know you can do it.”

He bit her neck and she muffled a shriek, trying not to move in case he broke the skin. His hands tugged at her scrub bottoms and for the first time since the helicarrier Natasha knew real, paralysing fear.

“Bruce, get off me. Stop it now; you’re hurting me, and you don’t wanna do that.”

He ignored her, tearing at the fabric, his own nudity doing nothing to hide a very present and alarming erection.

“Bruce!” she said as loudly as she dared, pushing against his shoulders, “Stop!”

He looked up at her with only curiosity and confusion, and she knew there was no point trying to talk him out of it. Whatever the drugs had done had regressed Hulk back to some instinctual, empty state without logic, operating only on impulse. He probably didn’t even recognise her.

Natasha switched to violent resistance and prayed Hulk didn’t crush her skull in one blow. She punched and wriggled and tried to throw him off her, tried to squirm free of his weight, but nothing would shift him. Her blows glanced off like a child’s. And then he forced her thighs apart and slammed into her, and all she could do was scream.

 

The Red Room had taught Natasha that as a female agent rape was a constant threat, and had done as much as they could to prepare her mentally. It was just another tactic interrogators could use to try to break her, and it had no more impact than electric shock or water torture or plucking out her fingernails. It was a physical pain, but it could not touch her mind as long as she remembered that she was more than just her body.

This wasn’t like that. This was a constant fear that Bruce would break her, either intentionally or by accident. He wasn’t like any standard human captor who had human strength, human flaws and human logic: he was wild and volatile in ways she couldn’t fight. She couldn’t overpower him, and her reactions made no difference, even when she battered her fists against his chest and sobbed. He did not feel empathy or guilt, he did not seem to care if she was fragile – he didn’t even seem to hear her, merely grinding away, unthinking grunts hot against her ear.

She wished desperately he would snap out of it and be Bruce again, but she didn’t want him to go the other way and Hulk out. He’d almost certainly kill her if he changed now, the unpredictable spasms of the transformation more than enough to snap her spine with them still connected. As long as he was stuck in this transitional state, she had a chance of dealing with him.

Natasha blocked out the agonising pain between her legs and focused only on the places Bruce put his hands to make sure he didn’t press too hard. She concentrated on her breathing, and tried to listen over Bruce’s noises for anyone about to attack them or the Avengers coming to their (her) rescue. His torso was so hot where it touched her, like Bruce was burning up inside, and she spared a moment to worry the drug cocktail might actually kill him before steeling herself back into her detached observer state.

Bruce thrust harder, the impacts jarring her frame, and Nat glanced up at him. He had his teeth bared, brow furrowed as he worked himself into her faster. If he kept it up, she was going to have a shattered pelvis. Nat tapped her palm against his face firmly, bringing his attention to her.

“Bruce, please. Try to think. Please, it’s Tasha.”

He lowered his face into the crook of her neck again and growled, the low rumble vibrating through her.

“Please, you have to stop! Or slow down, anything.”

He wrapped his fingers around her hips and lifted her, yanking their bodies together. Natasha heard a crack and felt a shooting pain through one hip, cry lost as Bruce howled and stiffened up, emptying himself into her.

Nat panted, trying to think through the pain as she licked sweat off her upper lip. Bruce released her, flopping back onto the dirt with an arm over her waist possessively. Natasha was afraid to move, but she had to keep an eye on him. She rolled slightly, eyeing his face. Bruce seemed completely out of it, mouth open and eyes closed.

Natasha tried lifting his arm and couldn’t, his limbs super heavy from the partial change. She wormed her way upwards, biting her cheek as her hip grated and complained, until she slid out from under his hold. She couldn’t see much in the dark but she knew her hip was at least dislocated, possibly worse, and she couldn’t put it back in herself until she knew which it was.

Everything in Nat told her to run, to hide, to get away from Bruce. He was dangerous right now, and she didn’t know how long he’d be comatose. But she wasn’t physically up to it, and they needed to stay together for both their sakes. She tugged her trousers up one-handed, fighting to get her heart rate steady again as she shuffled backwards over the dirt. She reached a tree and managed to get into a half-raised position where she could keep an eye on the doctor. Natasha closed her eyes, arms wrapped around herself, and tried to be Black Widow again.

 

“Nat?”

Her eyes flicked open at the familiar voice, gaze darting to Bruce. He was still out cold, covered in grime, sweat and blood (some of it hers). Lights skimmed over the nearby trees unsteadily, footsteps coming closer.

“Clint?” she whispered.

“Nat!” Steve called.

She looked up as the captain, Clint and Thor jogged towards her. The archer went straight to her side, kneeling to examine her face as Steve headed for Bruce.

“Be careful with him!” she tried to sit up, “He’s not stable.”

“We found the warehouse,” Clint said, “They were experimenting on him?”

“They injected him with a bunch of stuff, I don’t know what any of it was. When we were escaping, he kept changing back and forth.”

“Are either of you hurt?” Thor asked, frowning with concern.

“I think Bruce is okay other than the drugs, but I’ve got a possibly broken hip.”

Clint scowled. “When we find the cocksuckers who did this, I am gonna rip their intestines out through their noses.”

“Clint.” Steve admonished.

“What! They deserve it.”

“Call in medical.”

“I can carry Lady Natasha to our transport, if she wishes.” Thor offered.

“You might do more damage.” Clint pointed out.

“I would be careful.”

“It’s okay, Thor. I think you and Steve will need to take Bruce anyway, his body’s at Hulk density right now. Clint can wait with me for a stretcher.”

The blond nodded, putting his hands behind Bruce’s knees. “Thor, gimme a hand?”

“Of course.”

The two of them lifted him and started back the way they’d come. Clint reached down and took Nat’s hand, and she squeezed it too hard in her relief.

“You okay, kid?”

“I don’t know, Birdboy.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“We’ll get these bastards, I promise.”

Nat couldn’t have cared less; she could finally let herself feel the exhaustion of the last few hours, and she didn’t want to think. Clint was here now, and he could keep watch. There was just one thing she needed to say before she let herself pass out.

“Clint.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let anybody but Medical touch me, alright?”

“Of course.”

 

The jostling of getting her onto the stretcher woke Nat a little, but she was so tired she went back to sleep pretty much straight away. The next thing she knew someone was touching her shoulder and saying her name gently.

“Agent Romanov? Agent Romanov, can you hear me? Natasha?”

She opened her eyes reluctantly to find she was in a white room. A woman in the white SHIELD medical uniform stood over her.

“I’m awake.”

“Good. You’re in the Medical department at SHIELD HQ in New York. Your teammates are waiting upstairs with Director Fury. I’m Dr Hansen, and over there are my nurses Laura and Jacob. They’re going to help me examine you, if that’s alright.” She said in the soothing tones of someone used to dealing with skittish field agents.

Nat nodded.

“Now, you think you have a broken hip?”

“Pretty sure.”

“We’ll need to operate to set it back in place then. Are there any other injuries you know of, before we begin?”

She cleared her throat. It was just a normal post-op report. “I was raped.”

Dr Hansen pursed her lips unhappily and nodded. “Alright. We’ll check you for damage and run some STD tests.”

“You’re not allowed to tell anyone that, right?” Nat raised a brow, “Patient confidentiality?”

“I’ll have to put it in my report for the Director.”

“But you can make it classified intel?”

“Yes.”

“Do that.”

Hansen nodded, making a note on her clipboard as the nurses started prepping Natasha for surgery and the redhead wished she could skip right to feeling better again.

*****

When Natasha woke up, they’d moved her to a recovery room with a cheerful vase on the bedside table, and Fury was sitting in the chair against the wall. She coughed, mouth terribly dry, and he stood to pour her a cup of water, holding it until he was sure she could manage by herself.

“Director.”

“Agent Romanov. Glad to see you’re improving.”

“I’m ready to report, if that’s what you wanted.”

“I did, yes. Give me a general rundown of events – we can go into detail later. I’m sure those painkillers aren’t very conducive to accurate recall.”

She took a breath, sliding into agent mode. “We were shopping at the usual store near the Tower. They jumped Bruce first, tried to take me out, managed to sedate us both. I woke up at the warehouse facility, they were experimenting on Dr Banner.”

“Did you see anyone who seemed to be in charge?”

“A woman, blonde, 5’10”, heels and a designer suit. Probably early thirties, American. She didn’t appear to be armed. I didn’t get her name or her organisation but she did all the talking and they followed her orders. She escaped during the confrontation.”

“Go on.”

“I managed to get out of my restraints and arm myself, then threatened to kill Dr Banner if they didn’t back down. I freed him and started to leave, when he Hulked out. We made our way outside, Bruce alternating between himself and the Hulk.”

“What was his condition?”

“Highly unstable. His moods were altered even when he was normal, his physical state almost completely incapacitated. He had no control over the transitions.”

“But you made it out of the compound.”

“I stole a car and started down the road. It became apparent Bruce was going to have another change, so I pulled into the woods. We waited there until the team arrived.”

Fury set his jaw, sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes bored into hers mercilessly, and she struggled to keep a blank, professional expression.

“Natasha.”

“Director-”

“I read the doctor’s report.”

She looked down, gnawing at the inside of her cheek.

“I need you to tell me what happened.”

“It was in the woods.” She said quietly.

“Dr Banner.” Fury said, no hint of a question in his voice.

“He wasn’t himself. It was like...he was the Hulk, but he hadn’t changed shape,” she muttered, looking up, “Is he okay?”

“The doctors flushed out his system and cleared him. He should be fine, though they’ll need a lot of ongoing tests to make sure the effect of the drugs is only temporary.”

“I don’t want the team to know what happened,” Nat said firmly, “I don’t want this to change how they treat me or Bruce.”

“You really think you can continue working with him after that?” Fury asked sceptically, “I know you’re tough Romanov, but this is a trying situation. You’re already gonna need to undergo multiple psych sessions and tests before we can clear you to get back in the field. Do you believe you can work with Dr Banner after all that?”

 

“I don’t hold him responsible, sir. He had no control over his actions, and there wasn’t anything I could have done to avoid the incident without leaving him exposed to potential recapture. It won’t affect our relationship, and when I get back to the Tower I will carry on like normal.”

“He’s not at the Tower, Natasha.”

“What?” she frowned.

“He remembered. Not all of it; it was patchy thanks to whatever they did to him, but he remembered enough. He asked to see me after the doctors were finished and made me find him a secure room here at HQ.”

“Can I see him?” Nat asked, “I think I can reassure him that he’s not at fault here.”

“ _You_ are not going anywhere, agent. You are on mandatory bed rest until Dr Hansen says you can be released. You have a broken hip that needs monitoring and physical therapy to heal.”

“You can get me face to face with him – a video call will do, or a wheelchair.”

“I think it’s better for both of you to take some time first. Think things over, talk to a psych, and get your head in order.”

“I’m fine, sir. No offence but I think I know my own emotional state best.”

“It’s not just you, Natasha. Dr Banner has a delicate hold on his other self, and after the turmoil of constant changing back and forth and the post traumatic stress of hours of torture, he probably doesn’t need you in his face reminding him of even more bad experiences. We need him to stay as calm as possible while we assess his condition.”

She pouted, folding her arms over her stomach and wincing when they touched her hip. “Fine. But I’d like to speak to him at some point. I’m sure it will be easier to help him if he’s got one less thing to feel guilty about.”

“Maybe,” Fury stood, “I’ll send Commander Hill to get a full report tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to rest.”

“And you won’t say anything to the team.”

“I won’t tell the others because it’s not need-to-know. But they could help you, Natasha. You will need support in this, more than you realise.”

“I’ll survive. I’ve been through worse.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

He hesitated, hands twitching as if he wanted to put one on her shoulder or something.

“If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re one of my best, Romanov. I want you back on your feet, but not before you’re ready.”

“I’ll try to take care of myself.”

“See that you do.” He nodded curtly, marching out in a billow of coat.

Natasha leaned back on her pillows, hands fisted in the blanket. She hated that she had to stay in this bed while the others hunted down the people responsible. She knew Clint was serious when he said he’d do whatever it took and she trusted him to get the job done, but there was nothing like the satisfaction of personal revenge. And worse, she couldn’t even check on Bruce. She knew the doctor, and she could imagine exactly how much he hated himself right now, and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

Bruce sat on the floor of his room, head on his knees, just breathing. Room was a nice word for it; it was a cell, Hulk- and Asgardian-proof, with minimal furniture fixed to the walls and no door handle on the inside. But he needed that kind of certainty right now, when he couldn’t trust himself.

Physically the doctors had said there was nothing wrong with him beyond some bruises, but he felt wrecked. The stress of the ordeal had left him trembling and worn out, and he knew he should just sleep through it but he couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes the darkness reminded him of the glaring spotlights and the shadowy corners of the warehouse, and the pitch black of the woods, Natasha pleading with him...

He clutched at the edge of the bed, fighting the rush of adrenaline as the Hulk stirred. His alter ego was unsettled. The lack of answers about their abductors that made Bruce edgy and worried only made the Hulk more confused, and when he was confused he felt threatened and pushed harder against Bruce’s barriers. Fury had agreed to let him stay at SHIELD when he asked but the scientist had a feeling the director would have insisted on it anyway, and he would have been right to do it. There was no way Bruce could be around people right now.

The doctor had gone through some shit in his time, but he’d never been left in such a maelstrom of feelings. He was weary and sore from the torture and the constant transitioning; he was angry at their captors, and nervous they might try again, and frightened about what their experiments meant; he was horribly, horribly guilty about Natasha, and unsure how he could ever face the rest of the team again after what he’d done. Bruce was used to being a monster, but there was a big difference between the Hulk hurting innocent strangers and _him_ hurting someone he knew – a friend who’d saved him from unimaginable torture, who’d faced death for him when she could have just run, who’d only been there in the first place because of him. And look how he’d repaid her.

Clearly joining the team had been a mistake. He’d known since his accident, since Harlem and Betty: Bruce was too dangerous to let people get close to him. They only ended up hurt. He was infected, his control stripped away at a moment’s notice. He should be living as a hermit in Borneo or Nepal or the middle of the Sahara, not in a civilian population like Manhattan. As soon as he was sure the experiments had no lasting effects, and Fury’s people caught those responsible, he was going off-grid again. It was where he belonged.

*****

Natasha hated being stuck in bed, but she didn’t whinge and fidget and try to escape like Clint. She knew that the faster she recovered, the faster she could get back to business as usual, so she suffered through the boredom without complaining and willed herself to get better.

Clint stopped by after a couple of days when they’d deemed her well enough to have visitors, sitting cross-legged at the end of her bed with a smile.

“How you likin’ the invalid life?”

“It’s all lollipops and kittens, Birdbrain. Did they tell you when I was getting out of this dump?”

“Nope. Surprisingly hard people to read, these SHIELD docs.”

For which Natasha was endlessly grateful. “Have you seen Bruce?”

“No one’s seen Bruce. He’s all quarantined for safety.”

“Still?”

“I guess they’re not putting much faith in his stability right now, for obvious King Kong type reasons.” Clint said pointedly.

“What about the mission? Tell me what’s going on.”

“You first. Fury gave us the official report but I wanna hear it from you.”

She sighed but rattled through it, keeping certain parts to herself but trying not to lie if she could avoid it. Clint could always tell when she was understating things, so she was honest about what they’d done to Bruce and how scared she’d been.

When she finished he nudged her toe. “So how’d you break your hip?”

“Hmm?”

“You left that part out.”

“Sorry. One of the guys got a lucky kick in when we were making for the car.”

“And you still managed to drive it out of the facility?”

“Shock, Barton. I didn’t feel it.”

“You’ve got some impressive bruises.” He nodded to the purple shapes showing at the neck of her hospital gown.

“It was hard to keep Bruce calm when he kept switching. One minute I’d be holding him up, the next he was Hulked out and squishing my collar bone.”

“You’re amazing, Nat. I don’t know if I could have coped with that.”

“Are you gonna tell me about your investigation or not? I feel like you’re being evasive. What don’t you want me to know?”

He sighed, clasping his hands on his knees. “We think the woman who was running things was a contractor for someone else, and the guards and workers were all her own people.”

“Contractor for who, General Ross?”

“No. Ross never found a way to subdue the Hulk, not even with Abomination around to experiment on. We think this is a bigger player.”

“What were they testing though? I mean if they just wanted to see if they could contain Hulk, they didn’t need to keep injecting him with stuff.”

 

“Docs took some blood samples but the chemicals were hard to separate into individual formulas. They’re working on a theory that Bruce was a guinea pig for someone who wanted to take down Steve.”

“What?” she scowled.

“Makes sense. Pick off one Avenger to get the tools to take down another, and they got a third in the bargain.” He pointed at her.

“Steve and Bruce don’t have the same genetic modifications.”

“Exactly – Steve’s are better. I think they needed someone closer than a normal human to see if it would have any effect at all before trying it on Captain Perfect.”

“Steve’s not invulnerable like Hulk. He can be shot or blown up or stabbed. Why do they need chemicals to kill him?”

Clint shook his head. “They weren’t lethal formulas, or else Bruce would be dead right now. It was basic interrogation stuff: drugs to induce fear, to increase pain and nerve responses, to create irrational anger and disorientation, to encourage lack of control. If you ask me, they wanted a sure-fire way to incapacitate our favourite soldier so they could get samples of his genetics and create their own army of super commandoes.”

“How’s Fury handling security?”

“Steve refused protection, saying he could look after himself and he didn’t want to endanger anyone. The director told him if that was his attitude, he could stay in the Tower until this whole thing’s cleaned up.”

Nat snorted. “I’m sure that went well.”

“Tony pretty much laughed Fury out of the building. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Steve’s face that red.”

“You got video?”

“Of course.”

“You’re the best.”

He pulled a face, smiling sadly. “We miss you, Tash. Me most, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“I know the others will come visit when they can. You won’t be lonely, that’s for sure.”

“I wish I could talk to Bruce. They want to start bringing in psychs to talk me through stuff and I won’t be able to relax and process until I know he’s okay.”

“So go see him.”

“I can’t walk, idiot.”

“Hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

“Are you gonna sit there smirking and making smartass comments, or are you gonna go steal a wheelchair and take me to his room?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m not too injured to kill you, you know.”

“Bring it on, cripple.”

 

Clint lowered her into the wheelchair like a delicate baby bird, which she would have resented if it hadn’t been totally necessary. They hooked her IV onto the back and rolled right past the nurses’ station.

“Don’t mind us, just giving her a change of scenery.” Clint flashed a cheeky smile. Natasha gave the woman her best don’t-fuck-with-me glare.

“Director Fury personally told us to keep an eye on Agent Romanov.” The nurse stuck her lip out timidly.

“Well I’m one of the best observers in the agency, so I think I can manage it. I’ll get her back to you in one piece, I promise.”

He pushed her into the hall, not giving the nurse a chance to object again, and down to the elevators. Natasha kept her head down uncomfortably.

“I hate everyone seeing me all...”

“Badly dressed?”

She backhanded him in the stomach. “No. Helpless.”

“You could probably still kill a man with a ballpoint pen, Tash. You’re not helpless.”

“They don’t know that.”

He stopped. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Yes we do. Now shut up and drive.”

The archer shook his head but got her in the elevator, eyeballing a junior agent who was staring too much. They rode down to the protective custody level, which was really only one step above the official detention levels. Clint pushed her towards the hall confidently, a self-important look on his face.

“Uh, sir?” the agent behind the front desk stood, “I need to check your credentials.”

“Agents Barton and Romanov, level seven. We’ve got clearance.”

“You’ll need to sign in, sir.”

“Don’t worry yourself about that, we’ll only be a minute.”

“It’s procedure, Agent Barton.”

Nat gave Clint a look and he nodded, leaving her by the door to stroll over and lean casually on the counter.

“You’re what, a level five?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then you know enough of the contents of her field history to be appropriately afraid of what she can do.”

The man glanced at Natasha and swallowed. “Yes sir.”

“Now _I_ would get in trouble for killing anonymous level fives but Natasha was recently wounded in the line of duty and yet to pass her psych tests. Director Fury has a personal interest in her wellbeing. I’m sure he’d understand if she slipped, in her traumatised state.”

“Are you threatening me, agent?”

“Not at all, agent. I just think it’ll be safer for everyone if you handle your paperwork and leave us to our business.”

 

The guard scowled but buzzed them through. Clint smiled charmingly.

“Thank you.”

He went back to Nat, wheeling her into the hall.

“You didn’t have to bully him. We could have just signed in – Bruce isn’t a prisoner, and I can handle getting scolded for being out of bed.” She muttered.

“What about me, huh? What about the scolding I’ll get for helping you?”

“Wuss.”

They reached Bruce’s room and Clint knocked, fist rapping on the steel door. “Bruce?”

“Uh, hey Clint.” He replied, voice muffled.

“Don’t tell him I’m here.” Nat whispered.

Clint gave her a weird look.

“Just do it, alright?”

He raised his voice. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.” Bruce said quickly.

“Everyone’s worried about you, buddy. I just wanted to see how you are.”

“Better.”

“Seriously, this is stupid. I had to strongarm a guard just to get in here. You’re not gonna make me yell through a door, are you?”

Nat gave him a thumbs up for the guilt trip, the pair waiting in silence. Eventually there was a response.

“I can’t open the door.”

“That’s okay, cos it’s a skill I happen to rock at.”

“Alright. Just for a minute. And you have to leave as soon as I tell you to.”

“I can manage that.”

Clint pressed his badge against the lock and the door slid open. Bruce was standing by his bed, rubbing his hand through his hair, but he stopped the second he saw Natasha.

“No.”

“Hey Bruce.” She smiled, fighting back the automatic wave of panic at seeing him again. That was just instinct; she knew Bruce would never willingly hurt her.

“You two need to leave.” He gasped, sitting on the bed hard.

“I was hoping we could talk.” She said gently.

“I can’t – I can’t – Natasha, you...”

She pressed her lips together. “Clint, could you wait in the hall?”

“Uh...you sure, Nat?” he eyed Bruce warily.

“You can watch on the cameras if it makes you feel better but I trust Bruce.” She kept her gaze firmly on the doctor when she said it.

“Okay.”

 

Bruce watched panicky and wide-eyed as Clint stepped into the hall and closed the door, eyes darting to Nat. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t think you would come to me.”

“I’m in this room for a reason, Tasha!”

“I know. I didn’t say you have to leave. I understand you’re terrified of yourself right now, and it’s probably the responsible thing to do.”

“How – how...what are you even _doing_ here?” he pressed his hands to his forehead, “You should want to be as far from me as possible.”

“Bruce-”

He jerked his head up. “Unless you came to kill me? I wouldn’t blame you if you had – hell, I’d let you if I thought it was possible.”

“Shut up, right now.”

He clenched his jaw, kneading the linen of his trousers with one hand. Natasha wheeled herself closer but stopped when he flinched.

“Bruce, I came to see if you were feeling okay, and to tell you I’m glad we both made it out.”

“How can you say that after what I did?” he asked tearfully.

“Because I know what kind of man you are and you would never have done that willingly, Bruce. It was out of our control.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” he stood, pacing, “That doesn’t undo it!”

“Nothing can undo it.” She said flatly.

“Then how can you act like it was nothing? Jesus Christ, I put you in a wheelchair!”

“Oh calm down. It’s not like I’m in this thing forever.”

Bruce growled at her in frustration.

“Do you believe me when I say that wasn’t even close to the worst thing that’s ever happened to me?”

He frowned. “Probably.”

“Then you should understand why I don’t think it should change anything between us.”

“And you should understand that it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done.”

“Really?” she raised a brow, “Hulk’s killed innocents, Bruce.”

“Innocents maybe, but they were in uniform pointing guns at him. They knew the danger. They had some kind of choice, and you didn’t, and I...”

“You didn’t have a choice either, Bruce.”

“I could have let them kill me. I could have snatched that gun off you and done it while I had the chance.”

“That’s not a choice, that’s a cop-out.”

“It would have saved you.”

 

“I wouldn’t have made it out of that compound without you and Hulk.”

“So what, rape is _okay_ if it’s the price of freedom?” he scoffed.

“It’s not about the cost of things, Bruce.”

“Everything with you is about cost. Your whole life is debts and ledgers, Nat.”

She was done with this. She was tired, and her hip hurt, and Bruce was more interested in his self-loathing than actually listening. If she’d had two usable legs she would have thrown him into the wall and hit him until he saw sense, but as it was she only had her words to persuade him and he was too caught up in his own bullshit to hear them.

“Look, I didn’t come here to throw abuse at you or make threats or watch you beat yourself up. I came because you’re my friend, my teammate and my housemate, and I was concerned about you.”

“I don’t deserve your concern. I should be locked up here for the rest of my life with the other criminals.”

“You think you owe me? Okay, you do. You owe me the courtesy of believing I know myself well enough to judge when I’m goddamn upset and when I’m okay. If I say I don’t hate you, trust me. If I say I’m more worried about you than me, trust me.”

Bruce fell to his knees, tears streaking down his face. “How can I go back, Nat? Now that they know I really am a monster.”

“They don’t know, and they’re not going to.”

“What?” he blinked up at her.

“I told Fury I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s not their business, Bruce.”

“Me being a threat is everyone’s business.”

“You’re not a threat.”

“Yes, I am! I always have been.”

“And yet you’ve been living in the tower with us for months without a single incident, despite constant provocation. I’d say you overestimate yourself, doctor.”

“You think I can go back and act like everything’s normal, when I have to look at you every day and remember what I’m capable of?”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You know what I mean-”

“It’s not gonna be easy for either of us, at first. But we’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to forgive yourself.”

“This isn’t forgivable.”

“It wasn’t you, Bruce. You are a sweet, kind man who only wants to help people. What happened in the woods happened because you were tortured out of your right mind and turned into a lab rat. Neither you, nor Hulk, would ever want to hurt me and I know that.”

“What if it happens again?”

 

“Do you think we’re likely to get kidnapped again?”

“We can’t know what’s gonna happen in the field.”

“All the more reason you need me watching your back.”

He shook his head violently. “No. No, I need to go somewhere with nobody around, no one who can get hurt because of me and my stupid decisions. I shouldn’t go back to the team.”

“We need you.”

He laughed. “You don’t need me – you’ve got Steve and Thor and Tony to do your heavy lifting.”

“Bruce, Hulk is an unstoppable indestructible giant. We need you.”

Something in her tone made him waver. The frustration left his face, replaced only by guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Tasha. I’m so sorry about everything.” He sobbed.

“You wanna make it up to me? Pull yourself together and get back to your routine, because I don’t think you get to be more disturbed about this than I am.”

“Tash-”

“No!” she barked, “Their meddling already put us both in danger and led to this situation. I will not let them ruin the team by driving you away. Promise me you’ll go back to the Tower.”

“Tasha, I can’t.”

“Promise me.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, just for a second, and wheeled herself to the door. Clint opened it before she could knock, waving to Bruce before pushing her out and closing the door again. He started towards the entrance and Nat put a hand on his.

“Clint, stop.”

She looked up to find him fuming, gnawing at his bottom lip angrily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t important.”

“Not important! Jesus Tash, it’s not like you tripped and stubbed your toe! We’re talking about-”

“Shut up.” She pointed at the camera on the roof.

“Fine. We are talking about serious psychological shit, and you didn’t tell _me_?”

“I just did. I knew you’d be listening in.”

“Yeah, and that doesn’t make sense either. You told Bruce you didn’t want any of us finding out.”

“I trust you. You won’t tell the others, and you won’t let Bruce know you overheard. But I’m also not an idiot, and despite what Fury thinks I am aware I need someone who knows or I’ll go crazy.”

He looked somewhat placated. “Alright. I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you. And I meant what I said to Bruce; I don’t hold anything against him, I don’t hate him, and I don’t fear him. But sometimes these things rear their heads unexpectedly, so if I come to you to talk I don’t want you to freak out, okay? It’s just...part of dealing with it.”

“I got it. I guess I can’t blame Bruce either.”

“You shouldn’t. He was drugged out of his head, scared, confused...he probably didn’t even know who I was at the time.”

“Okay. So I’ll organise a big ‘Welcome Home’ party and harass him if he doesn’t show, and when you’re finished with your rehab stuff we’ll go back to happy families.” Clint drawled.

“Thank you.”

“Have I mentioned you’re amazing?”

“I could stand to hear it more.”

*****

They all came to see her, a positive cavalcade of anxious superheroes. Tony told jokes to hide his discomfort at being in a sick room, and Natasha laughed instead of her usual quiet amusement because she knew he needed it. Steve sat by the bed twisting his cap in his hands and filling her in on the team’s search for their captors, because he knew that was what she cared about and he’d spent enough time around soldiers to know keeping the truth from her wouldn’t help. Thor brought books and games, and asked if she wanted him to fetch an Asgardian healer, but she passed. It didn’t seem wise to blow her diplomatic capital on a minor fracture.

And of course Clint came every time he was at HQ, with food and quips and agency gossip. It was Clint who told her Bruce had finally agreed to go back to the Tower, and Clint who promised to keep an eye on him, and Clint who showed up with a bounce in his step after two weeks of bed rest and ongoing psych evaluations.

“Why are you so damn chirpy?” she scowled.

“I’ve come to take you home, sunshine.”

“Really?”

“Yep, Fury cleared you to leave. They’re gonna send someone out to us every day to do your physical therapy but you can come with me now, take a proper shower, and wear your own damn clothes.”

“Barton, I think I might love you.”

“Understandable.”

He reached outside the room and pulled in a wheelchair. Nat gave him a disgruntled look.

“Sorry, protocol. You don’t get a walking stick or crutches until the therapist signs off that you’re not gonna hurt yourself.”

“Fine. Let’s get this indignity over with.”

He helped her change into a pair of her own tracksuit pants and a big comfy hoodie that she recognised as one of the archer’s favourites. Clint lifted her into the chair and wheeled her out.

“Make sure you get plenty of rest, Agent Romanov.” The nurse behind the desk smiled.

“I’ll try.”

“And I’ll hamstring her if she doesn’t,” Clint winked, “Then she’s got no choice!”

When they got to the garage, Nat was expecting a standard non-descript SHIELD sedan. Instead, there was a bright red convertible with shining chrome details.

“Barton, did you steal one of Stark’s cars?”

“He gave it to me special, for the occasion. I’m pretty sure they’d all have come with to pick you up but they’re busy getting your surprise party ready.”

“Clint.” She said reproachfully as he got her settled in the passenger seat.

“What? You have a broken hip, not a broken brain. I can’t give it away if you already guessed.”

He was right, after all; she knew her housemates would want to celebrate that she was back. They were emotional like that. Nat sighed, leaning her head back on the seat as Clint pulled out of the bay.

“They’re gonna be all over me, aren’t they?”

“For a while. But you’re still Scary Nat, so I’m pretty sure after a day or two you can tell them to fuck off and they’ll listen.”

“Here’s hopin’.”

“And hey, having Steve and Thor to carry you around is way more badass than being in the wheelchair.”

Nat smirked. “I might have to make the most of that.”

 

Clint glanced at the numbers flicking as they shot up the elevator shaft. “Almost there. You ready?”

“I can handle a few overzealous helpers, Birdface.”

“Birdface? That hurts.” He shook his head.

“Let me wheel myself out though, okay? I don’t want them mothering me anymore than they’re already going to, and if you push me I’ll look like a lame duck.”

“Alright. Strong independent woman, I hear you.” He tapped his fist against his chest and held it up.

“Moron.”

“Being injured makes you mean.”

She smiled, and then they stopped and the doors opened. The common room had been strung up with streamers and a huge ‘Welcome Home Nat!’ sign, and a giddy Thor jumped up from his spot behind the couch before she’d even made it fully into the room.

“Surprise!”

Steve groaned, climbing out from behind an armchair. “Thor, we talked about this.”

Tony stood, already behind the bar, and immediately started mixing spirits into a cocktail shaker. “I told you the thunder god had no sense of timing.”

“Welcome home, Natasha.” Steve said ruefully, walking over to kiss her cheek.

“I am sorry to ruin your surprise.” Thor gave her a guilty pout, clasping her hand in his.

“It’s okay, Thor. I don’t really like surprises anyway. They usually mean someone’s tryin’ to kill me.”

“Drink, Romanov?” Tony called.

“She’s not allowed to drink,” Steve scowled, then glanced at Clint and Natasha worriedly, “You’re not allowed to drink, right?”

“I’m not on the super heavy pain meds anymore so I can have one or two, but I’ll pass, Tony. Tell you what I do want? Coffee. And chocolate ice cream.”

“I can do that.” Clint jogged towards the kitchen.

“I’ll help.” Steve hurried after him as Thor joined Tony at the bar, still shamefaced.

“Hey Tash.”

The redhead looked up. Bruce stood nearby, hands clasped behind his back nervously, smile shy and hesitant.

“Hey Bruce. I didn’t see you before.”

“I decided to skip the surprise. I’m doing more to avoid potentially stressful situations since...”

“Yeah. You look much better though.”

“You too.”

Tony snorted. “Being dolled up for once probably has something to do with it. Brucey’s barely been out of his lab since he got home.”

The scientist gave her a wary look, like he’d been caught out.

“Like you’re one to comment on people spending too much time with their work, Tony.” Natasha drawled.

“I was helping with the mission.” Bruce added.

“Yeah. Any update on that?”

 

Thor sighed. “Barton has told you we determined your abductors worked for others?”

“Yeah.”

“They did not leave us as many leads as we would like. We have had to split our investigation somewhat – Anthony, Bruce and myself hunt for those who might have hired the kidnappers, while Steven and Clint search for your mysterious blonde.”

“We’re hoping she’ll give up her employer, but if not we might be able to find them ourselves.” Tony nodded.

“I can help, look through pictures if you’ve got any, or give a more detailed account-”

“No. You can talk about it with us but we want you to rest up and work on your physio instead of worrying about this.” Tony said firmly.

“How am I possibly going to not worry about this?” she scowled, “Bruce gets to help.”

“Bruce is helping cos he has to, cos it’s him they experimented on and cos he knows his own condition better than anyone else.”

“Apparently not.” Bruce muttered.

“ _Anyway_ , you can help when you’re back on your feet and not before.”

“I’ll go crazy in this tower with nothing to do!”

“We’ll keep you company as much as we can, Natasha.” Thor assured her, brow furrowed earnestly.

“Yay for me.”

“Ouch, Romanov.” Tony clutched a hand to his chest.

“She’s mean when she’s wounded.” Clint announced as he walked in with a bowl of not just chocolate, but cookie dough and caramel swirl ice cream, and handed it to her.

Nat set it in her lap so she could manoeuvre herself next to the couch. “Is this a party or what?”

“Right you are, missy!” Tony tossed his shaker from hand to hand, “I’ll do drinks, Jarvis is in charge of music.”

Clint took the seat next to Nat, dipping his finger into her bowl and sucking it clean with a cheeky grin. Steve came in a minute later and set her coffee on the side table where she could reach, claiming the neighbouring armchair. Thor ferried drinks from the bar to the others before joining Clint on the couch, Tony leaning on the counter.

But Bruce sat himself as far from her as possible, and didn’t join the conversation as the others relayed everything she’d missed. Even when they finished discussing team and Tower gossip and moved on to random stuff like whether Steve or Thor was better at juggling, the doctor didn’t comment, sitting with his arms folded over his chest. Nat didn’t like it.

She looked around for Clint, who was laughing about something with Tony at the bar, a cocktail umbrella behind one ear. The Russian caught his eyes and moved her hands below the sides of her wheelchair where they were less visible. Using the smallest gestures possible, she signed a quick question.

_How’s he been?_

Clint’s smile turned into a grimace for a second. He jumped up on the edge of the bar, still looking at Tony as he moved his hands in his lap.

_Withdrawn. Doesn’t socialise. He’s in his lab from early morning until midnight, sometimes later._

Nat bit her lip and waited for Clint to look over again.

_Psych?_

He gave a scornful look and signed back.

_I don’t think he told them._

She pressed her lips together. Nat knew Bruce was probably just trying to protect her, but if he didn’t talk to someone about the rape he was never going to deal with it properly. She wasn’t sure what to do about it though – she couldn’t make him tell anyone, and she couldn’t go behind his back and tell his therapist because he’d know it was her. If Nat could make him see that it was non-consensual for him too, he might be more inclined to tell someone, but Bruce only saw himself as the bad guy and there was no way he was going to shift that blame back where it belonged. He was too good at feeling guilty.

Natasha would just have to keep trying, keep being around him without judgement, keep showing him she was okay until he believed it and stopped feeling like a dangerous beast. It was all she could do.

*****

Physiotherapy sucked. It was so repetitive and so _boring_. Natasha was used to her body moving exactly how she wanted, to being able to do anything with barely a thought, and now she had to force herself to be patient just to master walking with her crutches. Clint threw a party when she switched to using them full-time – which was only a week after her first party, as Natasha pointed out.

“If you keep this shit up my reputation’s gonna be as bad as Stark’s.”

“Hey!” Tony objected.

“Oh shut it, playboy.”

The psych visits should have been easier (if just as boring) but they weren’t, because Fury had assigned her a shrink that seemed telepathic – and knowing SHIELD, she might have been. Nat was good at reading people but Dr Singh was like a blank canvas: well-dressed in neutral colours, no accessories to speak of, nothing to give away her personality. She just sat across from Natasha taking notes the agent couldn’t see, and nodding occasionally between questions.

“How’s the physio going?”

“Fine. Dr Jacobs says I’m progressing as expected.”

“You’re frustrated that you’re not improving faster.”

Nat shrugged. “Who wouldn’t be?”

“You expect too much of yourself, Natasha. Your body has limits but they usually don’t affect you, and now you can’t ignore them.”

“I don’t like to be kept on the bench.” She grumbled.

“Especially because you are so invested in this mission.” Dr Singh smiled knowingly.

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like you need to be the one to catch your abductor?”

“I’d like to be there.”

“Why? Because you feel like you failed, letting her escape the first time? Or because you want revenge?”

“No. Revenge for myself would be petty, and Bruce has enough people trying to avenge him without my help. And she got away, yeah, but I protected Bruce and that was more important. I don’t feel bad about it.”

“Then maybe you want to catch her because you don’t feel safe knowing she’s still around, possibly waiting to strike again?”

Nat shook her head. “I’m safe in the Tower, and I can’t go anywhere else with my hip. I’m surrounded by a bunch of superheroes and one of the world’s best security systems. I don’t feel helpless or unsafe.”

Dr Singh tapped her pen on her notebook. “You think if you catch her, you will achieve some kind of closure, and the nightmares will stop.”

Nat shifted uneasily in her seat, fighting not to grip the armrests and give herself away. She met Dr Singh’s unnerving stare evenly. “What makes you think I have nightmares?”

“Natasha, withholding information doesn’t help either of us. It’s only logical that after a traumatic experience, your subconscious would need release.”

The redhead traced a circle on the wood under her fingers, taking a breath. “They’re not every night, and never more than once in the same night. I usually manage to get back to sleep without a problem.”

“And their content?”

 

“Sometimes I’m in that moment at the compound, Hulk next to me as I fire at the guards, and I feel completely overwhelmed. That’s not how I feel in the field – ever – and it wasn’t how I felt when it was actually happening, but in the dream...”

“You feel like you are going to lose.”

“Yeah.”

“And die?”

“Probably. I don’t really have time to think about it.”

She scribbled a note and looked up again. “You said that is only sometimes. What about the others?”

“I dream about the rape.”

“Which part?”

“Not the woods or the car or any of that. The dream just starts with Bruce on top of me, and I have this growing feeling that I’m gonna die, that he’s too strong and too far gone and I won’t make it through. I get this pressure in my chest like I can’t breathe and it’s worse than the actual pain, just growing and growing until I wake up.”

“In the dream, what scares you more: the pressure or Dr Banner?”

Nat tilted her head. “Bruce doesn’t scare me anymore. After the helicarrier incident I had nightmares about being chased, about him catching me, but since we became a real team and spent more time together I got over it.”

“That hasn’t changed?”

“When it was happening I was afraid of him, yes, but only because I thought he would kill me without meaning to. I thought he might lose control, not that he actually wanted to hurt me like he did on the helicarrier. In my nightmare the fear of dying isn’t really connected to him.”

“You are afraid that something is happening you cannot control or change.”

“Maybe.”

“And that doesn’t relate back to Dr Banner in your daily life at all? You’ve already said there are moments he cannot be controlled, and he certainly can’t be changed. You never feel that pressure or fear around him?”

“No.”

Dr Singh gave her a sceptical look but sat back, clasping her hands over her notebook. “Natasha, both dreams sound to me like someone who hates being helpless, who hates not being free to make her own decisions and take care of herself. That’s fairly standard. Many people feel powerless after sexual assault, and the fact that you suffered an injury that limits your independence and movement will only increase that feeling, especially for someone who prides herself on not needing help.”

“The nightmares will pass, doc. I know that. I’m not worried about them – I’ve had them plenty of times before and come through alright.”

“Then you should have no problem letting your teammates complete the mission by themselves.”

Nat squirmed. “I hate leaving things unfinished.”

“And it won’t count if you’re not the one who finishes it?”

“It won’t be the same.”

“That is something you may have to learn to accept, Natasha. The odds are high that this woman will be caught before you recover enough to return to the field.”

“I know. I don’t have to like it.”

“But can you live with it?”

“Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Dr Singh smiled. “And therein lies the problem.”

 

The psych left to give her report to Fury, and Natasha went up to the common floor in a foul mood. She hated when people told her she couldn’t do what she wanted. It didn’t happen very often, but when it did - and they were right – she felt like she was back at Red Room, getting beaten for making a mistake in a drill. Dr Singh was so logical and so calm about it, and Natasha couldn’t even be mad at her because she knew the psych was right. It was almost certain she wouldn’t get to play a part in capturing the people responsible for the kidnapping, and she did have to learn to deal with that, and it would probably never feel alright but there was nothing she could do to change that.

She limped into the kitchen, figuring a vodka-laced thickshake would fix everything. Bruce was by the window, staring listlessly as he held a forgotten mouthful of pasta in front of his face, but he jumped when he noticed her.

“Oh, sorry. I uh, got distracted. I’ll get out of your way.” He dropped his bowl on the counter, hurrying for the door.

Natasha’s temper was already strained, and she snapped. “For god’s sake, can you not scuttle away every time you see me like I’m diseased or something?”

Bruce froze, eyes wide and stunned. “Um, I’m sorry, I thought maybe you would be uncomfortable but-”

“I’m fine, Bruce. You’re the uncomfortable one, and when you run away it makes me feel like a leper.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You need to sort your shit out, because we live in the same tower and work for the same team. You can’t run away every time you feel like it.”

“I’m trying Nat, really-”

“No you’re not. You haven’t spent any time with me since I got back. According to Clint, you don’t spend time with the others either. That’s not healthy.”

He hung his head. “I didn’t know what to say to them.”

“Have you told your therapist about what happened in the woods?”

“No!” he hissed, looking around, “You didn’t want anyone to know!”

“I didn’t want our friends to know, no. They couldn’t handle it. But your shrink is trying to help you, Bruce, and if you don’t tell the whole story you might as well not speak to him at all.”

“And I suppose you’re totally honest with your shrink?” he arched a brow.

“More than I am with most people, yeah. And I hate it.”

He laughed. “I know how you feel.”

“Please talk to him? For me at least, because I can’t deal with you avoiding me forever, and you can’t either.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

“Great,” Nat smiled, “And when you’re up to it, come hang out with me. I don’t have anything else to do at the moment and I could use the company.”

“Nat, are you sure that’s what you want?” he grimaced, “I mean, how can you even stand to look at me? It must be awful for you, having to remember all the time.”

“I remember lots of unpleasant things, Bruce. I was responsible for most of them. This? It’s not very fun now, but I can live with it a lot easier than some of my memories. And I don’t blame you, so I still wanna be friends.”

“I shouldn’t have friends. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m endangering you all just by hanging around.”

“Tony’s adopted you, so you’re stuck now.”

The doctor smiled. “Guess so. Think I get any perks?”

Natasha felt a flush of relief, or maybe pride, that he was even able to crack a joke with her. She smirked. “You should ask for a pony for Christmas.”

“A pony’s not quite up to my weight.”

“A motorbike then.”

“Now that’s a possibility.”

He took his lunch and nodded to her, walking out with the hint of a smile, and Nat suddenly felt a lot better about herself. She might not be able to slap the cuffs on that yellow-haired bitch herself, but she could help Bruce, and that was something.

*****

Nat was reading on her couch when the elevator opened and Clint walked in looking harried.

“What’s up?” she closed the book.

“We caught the mastermind chick.”

“What?” she sat up sharply, biting back a groan as the sudden shift grated her fracture.

“Tony and Steve went out to check on a lead and they found her. They’re bringing her in to SHIELD now.”

“I wanna watch the interview.”

“Nat-”

“Don’t even suggest I stay here. You need me to make a positive ID anyway.”

“Nat, I am super aware that you want to hear anything we can get from her, but there’s a problem with that. Bruce.”

“What about Bruce?”

“He knows the most about Hulk, and has questions about the experiment we need the answer to. But putting him anywhere near her...”

“Fury thinks he’ll have an episode.” Nat sighed.

“It’s a safe bet.”

“So put him in a secure room and open a video link. He can relay the questions, and I can watch from outside the interrogation room.”

“He’s not the only one Fury’s worried will have a bad reaction.”

“He doesn’t trust me?”

“Should he?”

She scoffed. “I’m not going to run in and strangle her, Clint. We need her intel.”

“Well Fury doesn’t believe you can be rational about it once you actually have her in arm’s reach, and he certainly doesn’t believe Bruce can get through the whole interview without Hulking out, so he’s ordered me to order you to act as Dr Banner’s supervisor.”

“I’m the babysitter?” she gaped.

“You’ll stay with him, outside the secure room, and talk him down if he starts losing it.”

“As if I could stop him!”

“You’re a teammate who also suffered at this woman’s hands. You have a better emotional connection than us, let alone a random agent. If anyone’s gonna get through to him, it’ll be you. And you’ll have a chance to watch the interrogation, so you’re getting what you want anyway.”

She huffed. “I don’t suppose there’s any point arguing.”

“Nope.”

“Then let’s get a move on.”

“Right. We just gotta explain the situation to Bruce first.”

Natasha blanched. “No one’s told him?”

“We were tossing up whether it was safer to get him to HQ under false pretences and then tell him what happened, or prepare him here first.”

“Bruce hates surprises.”

“Which is why we went with the second option. So you and me get to go wrangle him into a car without destroying the tower, okay?”

“Oh joy.”

 

Bruce was in his lab as usual. His psych met them in the hall outside.

“Agents Barton, Romanov, I’m Dr Redding. Director Fury asked me to escort you in case Dr Banner has an adverse reaction to the news.”

“Thanks for coming, doc.” Clint clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Who’s going to tell him?” Nat peered through the window in the door.

“I think it’s best coming from Agent Barton, as a familiar but uninvolved party. I’d suggest you wait here with me.”

“What’s the best approach?” the archer asked.

“Bruce feels understandably violated by this woman and her people, and he’s afraid she has undone all the work he’s put into maintaining and increasing his control. Hearing that she’s in custody will probably be reassuring, but facing her will make him anxious or scared, and he may unintentionally transform to cope with those feelings.”

“Awesome.”

“Just be as comforting as you can.”

“You’re great at that, right?” Nat punched him in the arm.

He took a breath and let himself into the lab, leaving the door open behind him. Bruce was taking a blood sample, fist clenching and unclenching rhythmically.

“Uh, hey buddy. Is this a bad time?”

Bruce disconnected the vial and sealed it, removing the needle and putting a cotton ball over the puncture. “No, it’s fine. What’s going on?”

Clint’s posture stiffened as he tried to find the right words. “We need you to come to headquarters.”

“Why?” Bruce frowned.

“Tony and Steve found the woman in charge of the kidnappers and brought her into custody. We’d like you to be on hand for the more technical aspects of the questioning.”

Clint waited, feet half-turned to the door in case he had to make a run for it. Bruce set his equipment aside slowly, hands shaking a little.

“They caught her?”

“Yes.”

“And they want _me_ to talk to her?” he smiled wryly.

“From a secure room, yes. We know it’s gonna be hard for you and we’ll try to make it as easy as possible.”

“I don’t know if I can even look at her. Clint, she’s there in my dreams, her voice and her face...I remember her talking while they...”

His breathing picked up, hands definitely shaking as he backed away from the bench. Dr Redding stepped into the room.

“Dr Banner? Look at me. Focus on me.”

The scientist turned, gaze slightly distant.

“We need you, understood? You, not the Hulk. We need you to ask the questions we won’t think of. You can help us, Bruce.”

“Thinking about her makes me feel like my control is non-existent. I’ll never make it through the drive.”

“She made you lose control, yes – once, under extreme circumstances and with the help of many interfering substances. She can’t do that now, Bruce. She can’t hurt you again. You have the power.”

He nodded jerkily. “Alright. Okay.”

“Let me help you with that, and then we can go.” Dr Redding pointed to his arm.

“You can’t – contamination risk.” Bruce hurriedly slapped a bit of tape over the cotton bud to hold it in place before rolling down his sleeve. He swept the used syringe and things into a bin and straightened.

“Ready?”

 

The ride to headquarters was incredibly tense. Clint and Dr Redding took the first car, Nat and Bruce behind them. The doctor spent most of the trip kneading at his pants and staring out the window.

“We’re gonna be fine, okay Bruce?” she said, “We’ll get through this.”

He looked a bit startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you were okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m good. Glad they got her. Eager to see what she can tell us.”

“Right,” he took his glasses off, playing with the arms, “She wasn’t the one that hurt you.”

“Yes, she was.”

He gave a non-committal shrug and turned away. Nat grabbed his hand, yanking until he looked at her.

“It wasn’t you, Bruce, it was her and the people who paid her. And even if you disagree, I watched her torture you for hours. I’m still pissed at her for that.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Tash.”

“You’re stronger than you realise. You’ve already held it together for six blocks. The rest is a cinch after that, right?”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m sure once I can see and hear her I won’t freak out ten times worse.”

“Dr Redding’s here to help-”

“Dr Redding is an idiot if he thinks he can psychobabble me into keeping a hold on Hulk – you think I didn’t try that when the accident first happened?”

“At least your shrink isn’t psychic.”

“Huh?” he frowned.

“I’m pretty sure SHIELD sent me someone from our ‘gifted & talented’ division, probably cos Fury didn’t trust me to talk unless I was goaded into it.”

“You mean your doctor might actually read your mind?”

“I think so.”

“That’s...awful!”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Saves time.”

“It’s a violation of privacy.”

“Shrinks violate your privacy anyway, Bruce. That’s their job.”

“Yeah, but what if there’s other stuff, stuff they shouldn’t know like classified mission info? What about the doctor, is she a SHIELD employee or a prisoner? Gosh, I knew Fury was a sneak but to distrust his own agents-”

“We’re professional liars and killers, Bruce. He shouldn’t trust us.”

“Still!”

Bruce ranted about abuses of privilege the rest of the way, the distraction of his outrage on her behalf completely distracting him from the bigger concern, as Nat had hoped. They pulled into the SHIELD garage as he gestured frantically.

“How can Fury trust a psychic anywhere near his operatives? I mean, her clearance level has got to be equal to his, and-”

“Bruce?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re here.”

He looked around, finally noticing that they’d stopped. “Oh.”

“Come on. We can do this, right?”

He took a breath. “Right.”

 

Fury was waiting for them outside Bruce’s prepared room, hands clasped behind him. He looked the scientist over with a slight nod.

“Good. We’re ready to get started. Barton?”

“See you later, kids.” He saluted, jogging off.

“Commander Hill is going to handle the interrogation. Dr Banner, you will have an audio link to her. She may ask you for clarifications or questions as she goes; otherwise you’ll get your turn once the main interview is over. Agent Romanov will be in the observation room next to yours, where she can monitor your condition.”

“Do we have a basic brief, sir?”

“Detainee’s name is Amanda Kessel. She’s a private contractor organising abductions, some assassinations, occasional bombings but always specialist stuff. Difficult targets or advanced tech.”

“Did her team develop the drugs or did the employer provide them?” Natasha set her jaw.

“That’s what we want to find out.”

Bruce looked fierce, too similar to the way he’d been in the woods, and Nat had to admit that despite all her fine speeches she was unnerved. He walked into his half of the space, taking off his shirt, and Fury closed the door behind him.

“Agent Romanov, Dr Redding?” he waved to the other open door.

The psych went through first, the director grabbing Natasha’s arm before she could follow.

“Are we good, Natasha?”

“I’m not going to fall apart on you, sir.”

“If it goes bad in there and Dr Banner turns, I want you out, understand me? Leave the control room, get yourself away from the situation.”

“If I thought I was going to have a panic attack every time I see Hulk, I wouldn’t be at the Tower, sir.”

“All the same. I don’t want this to put unnecessary strain on you, not while you’re still recovering.”

She walked into the room and closed the door. Apart from Dr Redding there was one other agent, though she didn’t know if he was there to make sure the tech didn’t fail or help in the event of an episode. Probably both.

Bruce was pacing nervously. Unlike the room he’d had when she was in Medical, this one had no furniture. There was an intercom on the control desk and Nat pushed the button.

“Ready Bruce?”

“I think so.”

“Open the connection.” She said to the agent.

He flicked a couple of switches and a projected image appeared on the far wall. It was an interrogation room, two chairs facing each other. The blonde from the warehouse had her wrists shackled to the armrests and her ankles restrained to the legs of one, the other empty. Nat concentrated on keeping her breathing even as she studied the woman’s face.

“Dr Banner, how are we going?” Dr Redding asked.

Bruce had his back to them, but he nodded curtly. A second later a voice came over the speakers.

“This is Hill, I’m about to go in. Are we in place?”

“Affirmative, commander.” Nat replied.

 

On the video, the door opened and the deputy director entered. She sat opposite Kessel without a word, folding her legs with almost indifference, giving the other woman a bored look.

“We’ve been able to link you to multiple very serious offences, which I’m sure doesn’t concern you. But it does mean that no matter what happens here, you’ll be entering a long term prison facility afterwards with no hope of release.”

“That’s illegal.” Kessel smiled venomously.

“You may be on US soil but SHIELD doesn’t answer to the American government. If we say you’re ours, that’s final,” she leaned forward, “What I’m saying Amanda, is that you’re not getting out of here, and no one is coming for you.”

“Is that supposed to make me chatty?”

“No. I have other ways to get you talking; I’m just making it clear right now that there’s no deal in it for you.”

“Then why would I tell you anything? You’re not very good at this, agent.”

Hill straightened. “Do you know the man you were paid to capture?”

“Yes.”

“You obviously know what he’s capable of.”

Kessel pursed her lips. “He is impressive, no doubt.”

“And you tortured him relentlessly. For hours.”

Kessel sniffed. “I do what the client wants.”

Nat bit the inside of her cheek, eyes on Bruce. His shoulders were up near his ears but he wasn’t changing or growling or anything, so she thought they were okay.

“Well SHIELD, acting outside the bounds of any nation-state, doesn’t have to comply with the Geneva Convention or any laws against the death penalty.”

“Is that true?” Dr Redding murmured.

“We kill bad people on a daily basis, doctor. What do you think?”

Hill continued. “So when we’re finished here, you can either quietly live out your days in confinement, or we can give you to Dr Banner for execution.”

“Jesus Christ!” Redding recoiled.

“Hill, you can’t be serious!” Bruce said loudly.

Nat pressed the intercom. “She just needs to scare Kessel into talking, okay? She wouldn’t ask you to do that. You’re a member of the team, Bruce, not a mercenary.”

He snorted. “I dunno, sometimes it feels like a toss-up.”

But he stayed calm, directing his attention back to the screen. Kessel was slightly pale, her smile a bit faker now.

“You wouldn’t. SHIELD may use extraordinary measures sometimes to get what they want, but you’re not barbarians.”

“Miss Kessel, let me tell you: after hearing what you did to Dr Banner, I’d throw you to him myself right now.”

Nat crossed her arms over her chest. She knew Hill’s tactics, and it was true when she said part of the threat was a bluff. But she also knew Hill herself, and there was anger in her gaze that promised she’d follow through.

“Now. Who hired you to kidnap Dr Banner?”

 

Kessel was silent, mouth twisted sourly.

“You don’t need to be concerned about repercussions from them. Like I said, you’re only leaving here in cuffs or a body bag. They are not the people you should be afraid of right now.”

The blonde still didn’t talk. Maria stood with a polite smile.

“Maybe you need a reminder. Agent Rider, can we have the footage please?”

Inside the interrogation room, a screen started playing clips of past Hulk attacks, the green giant ripping trucks apart and sweeping people aside like paper dolls. Bruce turned away, hunching down with his hands over his ears as his alter ego roared on the tape.

“Bruce,” Natasha said, “Count down from ten for me.”

He clenched his eyes shut but his lips were moving, fists pressed to his head.

“Enough,” Kessel curled her lip.

“Agent Rider?”

The footage stopped and Bruce visibly relaxed. Hill sat down again.

“I don’t know their names. They contacted me through my regular middleman as Mr Jones and Mr Smith but they were aliases.”

“How do you know?”

“I usually run background checks on my clients to make sure I’m not getting into anything more than what they’ve told me. These guys were ghosts. We only spoke through texts that then self-destructed. I never saw a face or heard a voice. Every number was untraceable.”

“Did you know the risks involved with Dr Banner?”

“If you’re asking did I know he was the Incredible Hulk, then no. They didn’t mention it, they just said he’d be difficult and dangerous to handle. I asked for more money and they gave it.”

“How did you receive the money?”

“Cash. I got a room at a prearranged hotel. I went out precisely at seven like they told me, and when I came back an hour later there were a couple of briefcases on the bed. One had the money, and the other was the formulas they wanted me to use and an explanation of how to go about it.”

“That’s a bit strange, isn’t it? They paid you to collect Dr Banner for their experiments but didn’t want to carry them out themselves? They put a lot of trust in your ability to follow orders and pass on what you saw.”

“Complex jobs are my bread and butter.”

“Still, you could have made a lot more money selling on those results to someone else.”

“It was made clear to me that the consequences of betrayal would be bad,” she smirked, “Besides, they were paying through the nose already. I’m not greedy enough to mess up a good thing.”

“So those were their instructions: abduct Dr Banner, conduct the tests and send them the data?”

“Yeah.”

“And after that?”

 

Kessel scoffed. “You think I wanted him getting loose? We agreed I’d dispose of Dr Banner, for my safety and theirs.”

“What about Agent Romanov?”

“It was understood she’d probably be with him, and need to be incapacitated. I decided she’d make a nice bonus. I’ve got plenty of people who’d pay to get some alone time with her and her head full of secrets.”

“How long before the abduction did Jones and Smith contact you?”

“Two weeks.”

“You planned this in a fortnight?” Hill raised her brows.

“I have – had – very good staff that are capable of that kind of turnaround. And the mystery men gave me everything I needed anyway. All I had to do was find a secure location and organise the capture.”

Hill raised a hand to her chin and tapped her fingers twice. Nat hit the intercom.

“Okay Bruce, if you have any questions now’s the time.”

He took a shaky breath. “Ask if she knows anything about the composition of the formulas.”

Hill relayed the question and Kessel shook her head.

“I didn’t know the ingredients, just a broad idea of potential effects. One was obviously the sedative to knock him out and stop him changing. One was to increase sensitivity to pain, one was supposed to increase the flight-or-fight adrenaline response and make him angry, one was a sexual stimulant. I think one was an immunosuppressant.”

“What exactly were they hoping to learn from these tests?”

Kessel laughed. “You think I cared?”

Bruce growled low in his throat.

“Bruce?” Nat asked warily.

“I’m alright. Ask her for specifics about the tests, my memory’s a little fuzzy. Did she have waiting periods to allow the drugs to wear off between experiments?”

Hill kept up the steady stream of Bruce’s questions. Some of them got a bit technical, even for Nat, and she tuned out to concentrate on Bruce’s reactions. He seemed better though; having to focus on the information instead of its provider seemed to level him out.

Eventually he was out of questions. Hill stood.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Kessel. I’ll need the details of your middleman and the hotel where you received the packages, and then we’ll move you to another facility.”

“Cut the feed.” Nat said to the agent beside her.

The video faded out, Bruce sitting heavily. Natasha nodded to Dr Redding.

“Dr Banner, can you tell me how you feel?”

“Angry.”

“That’s normal. Can you determine if you are more or less angry than usual?”

“Uh, a bit more.”

“Are you scared?”

 

“No.” He blushed.

“Do you feel an episode coming on?”

“I...maybe.”

“Let’s work through your meditation techniques.”

The psych started going on about breathing and counting. Nat shot the other agent a look and let herself out of the room, opening the door to Bruce’s half and stepping inside.

“Nat, what are you doing?” he gaped.

“Agent Romanov, I’d strongly advise you to remove yourself from Dr Banner’s proximity.” Dr Redding chastised her through the speakers.

“Bruce is alright,” she said calmly, “He’s in control.”

She tried to lower herself to the floor next to him, struggling a little with her crutches, and the doctor hurried to help her.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“You’re not gonna Hulk out. You don’t need to – she’s gone, interview’s done. Plus you have all this new info to start working with. Don’t wanna put that off so Hulk can smack his hands against the wall, do you?”

He looked her over, slightly awed. Bruce was covered in sweat, his muscles twitching, but his expression was calmer.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it wrong if...” he trailed off.

“If what?” she nudged him.

“If I wish Hill had given her to me?”

“I think it’s the most human reaction. And she would have deserved it, Bruce. But you wouldn’t have been happy about it. You’re not a killer like the rest of us.”

“Thank you.”

She lifted her arm and gave him an expectant look. Bruce shook his head.

“I shouldn’t get too close.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“It bothers _me_. I don’t want you to get hurt if I slip.”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“Tash, you have a broken hip.”

“That’s nothing. I scaled the outside of the Kremlin with a dislocated knee once.”

She just kept staring at him until he sighed and put his head on her shoulder. Natasha wrapped her arm around him, running her hand up and down his arm. Bruce was trembling and breathing hard, skin incredibly warm, but he was getting better instead of worse and he didn’t seem to mind the closeness, which was an improvement on recent times.

“Nat, tell me about the Kremlin.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone else?” she smiled, “That stuff’s classified.”

“I swear.”

She leaned back against the wall, stroking his hair. “It was about six months after I joined SHIELD...”

*****

By the time Dr Jacobs deemed her ready to start training again, Natasha’s nightmares had mostly stopped, and she was looking forward to getting back to her normal routine. She shuffled into the common room for dinner with her plain metal and plastic walking stick, and Tony immediately threw up his arms.

“What is this?”

“A cane, Stark. Even you can’t be that out of touch with reality.”

“It’s a _boring_ cane. You’re the Black Widow, super spy, living in the tower of one Tony Stark. You need something with all the bells and whistles.”

“Such as?” Steve raised a brow as they sat.

“Concealed weapons, tracking devices, adapter to charge your phone – the works.”

“You gonna make me one, Tony?” Nat smiled.

“Damn straight.”

“No, no,” Thor frowned, “What Lady Natasha needs is a sceptre of power and authority. I shall send to Asgard for one made of precious metals, inscribed with healing runes.”

“Oh, so you just have to one up me, huh big shot?” Tony glowered, “Playing the prince card, totally uncool.”

“How about you both submit one and Nat picks the winner?” Clint snickered.

“I’m up for it if Thunderbolt Barbie is.”

Thor chuckled. “You cannot hope to compete with the craftsmen of Asgard, friend Tony.”

“We’ll see. It’s on.”

“Alright.”

They shook hands, Nat rolling her eyes. “I’ve got a perfectly functional cane right here.”

“Let them have their stupid contest,” Clint muttered, “It’ll be hilarious.”

“Has Jarvis had any luck tracing those untraceable numbers?” Steve asked.

“We’re working on it,” Tony frowned, “I’m not the only genius in the world.”

“Did you hear that, people?” Pepper put her fork down, “A genuine admission that he’s not the centre of the universe.”

“It’s like seeing a unicorn.” Clint cooed.

“Unicorns are very common on Alfheim.” Thor said matter-of-factly, ignorant of the way everyone else stopped to stare at him as he continued eating.

Jarvis cut through the silence. “Excuse me sir, but Commander Hill is summoning you to SHIELD for an urgent mission in Mexico City.”

“Aww, it’s always on lasagne night!” Clint threw down his cutlery in disgust.

“You heard him Avengers, let’s move.” Steve stood.

“I’ll put this stuff away for later.” Pepper started clearing plates.

“Bruce, you coming?” Tony asked.

“Uh, I think I’ll sit it out.”

“We could use Hulk.” Steve said gently.

“Sorry guys. I’m not quite ready yet.”

Thor squeezed his shoulder. “That is fair, friend Bruce. You may keep Lady Natasha company.”

“Yeah, okay.” He looked at her uncertainly.

 

The team trooped out to get changed. Bruce cleared his throat and stood.

“I’ll help Pepper tidy up.”

“Oh no, I’ve got this. You and Nat should go put a movie on.” The redhead waved him off.

“Do you wanna watch something?”

“I’d like to play cards.”

He made a face. “Uh, I’m not good in competitive atmospheres.”

“Nothing too heated, just some Go Fish.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go.”

He hung back as she limped to the elevator, smart enough not to try to help. They rode down in silence, Nat finding her deck of cards as Bruce sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. The redhead made herself comfortable and started dealing.

“You know Go Fish doesn’t really work with two people, right?”

“It’ll be fine.”

He picked up his cards, fanning them in front of him as Nat laid out the pairs she already had on the table. Bruce huffed and lowered his hand.

“Nat, can we talk?”

She tucked a curl behind her ear. “Sure.”

“Dr Redding wants me to open up more but I don’t exactly trust strangers, especially ones who work for SHIELD. And you’re the only other person who knows, so...”

“It’s alright, Bruce. Tell me.”

He ran his hand through his hair, eyes on the table. “What happened in the woods...”

“Bruce, if you can’t say it, how are you going to deal with it?”

“When I attacked you,” he said more firmly, “That’s never happened before.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. Hulk doesn’t have those urges. He only wants to smash things, whether it’s in a fight or to escape or to help the team. And I gave up on sex a long time ago because it made things too complicated. At first I thought keeping things pent up might spill over to Hulk, but it never did.”

“Kessel admitted they gave you a sexual stimulant. It was just the drug, Bruce.”

“Yeah but that’s what worries me. That weird state where I was Hulked out but still myself, that’s never happened either. So if the right combination of drugs can cause that, it’s theoretically possible anytime I transform. What if it happens again? What if it’s a new state between me and Hulk, one that does have those pent up urges and the impulse to vent them?”

“You’re worried the experiments created a permanent hybrid?”

“Yeah. And I already have enough to deal with worrying about Hulk wrecking stuff, I don’t need to be stressing about _another guy_ who might...might...attack other people.”

“I thought you ran every test you could think of? Surely if there were lasting effects you would have found them.”

“How can we know? I’m one of a kind, Natasha. There are no rules or precedent or simple theories for me.”

 

Nat leaned in. “Have you Hulked out at all since the kidnapping?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been doing everything in my power not to.”

“Well maybe you need to. Maybe you need to prove to yourself that nothing’s gonna happen.”

Bruce shook his head vehemently. “I don’t wanna do that, Tash. I’m not ready.”

“You can’t sit out every mission. You need to take Hulk back and make him yours again.”

“What if it’s not Hulk who comes out?”

“Then at least we’ll know that’s a problem that needs to be addressed.”

He pouted silently and she put her cards down.

“I’ll come with you, keep an eye on things-”

“No!” he swore, “Are you crazy? I’ve done enough to you already!”

“Bruce, we have to be able to work together. Hulk and I are gonna be in the field on missions, and you can’t keep freaking out that I’ll get hurt.”

“You can’t possibly tell me he doesn’t frighten you at all.”

“He used to, back when I didn’t know you. But I trust you, and I trust Hulk.”

“I haven’t done anything to earn that.”

“You’ve done plenty. You help out all the time and never hurt any of us. You saved Tony when he fell, you caught that truck before it hit Steve, and you squished the guy trying to set Clint on fire.”

“That guy was a dick.”

“Yeah.”

He tipped his head back, lips curled speculatively.

“Where’s the safest place for you to Hulk out?”

He screwed up his nose. “There’s an abandoned dry dock SHIELD converted for me to use after missions. If I broke out, there wouldn’t be anyone around to get hurt.”

“You don’t think it will be too similar to the warehouse?”

“It won’t matter to Hulk.”

“Alright. I’ll get Happy to drive.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Come on.” She stood, grabbing her cane.

“Nat!” he called after her as she hobbled to the elevator.

“Are you gonna let the cripple beat you?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I’m a spy, Banner. I don’t do fair.”

He gave a frustrated groan and got up, running after her.

 

The dry dock was at the harbour in Brooklyn, slightly away from the other freight buildings and set further back from the river. It looked deserted, but Nat noticed the telltale signs of cameras as Happy stopped the car just outside a huge mesh fence.

“I hope you know how to get in.” He glanced at Bruce in the rear-view mirror.

“We might be awhile, Happy. Why don’t you wait back at the Tower?” Nat said.

“I don’t know, Tash. Maybe it’s better if he stays with you.” Bruce muttered.

“I’ll be fine.”

Happy turned to look around his seat. “There’s a great diner a couple of blocks over that does amazing key lime pie. How about I go over and grab a slice while you two do what you need to do?”

“Good idea.”

Nat climbed out, Bruce sort of trailing behind like a reluctant lemming. They approached a small gate in the fence and Nat tapped her knuckles against the metal.

“Solid stuff.”

“It needed to be.” Bruce put his hand on the latch.

There was a blue glow as the scanner read his prints, and the lock clicked back. He held it open as she walked through, making sure to close it behind them. The dry dock was housed in what looked like a big shed, with an enormous set of iron doors blocking the entrance to the river. Bruce led her to another door and wrapped his fingers around the handle, waiting for the click.

“Unauthorised personnel: Romanov, Natasha.” A voice said.

“Authorisation code gamma-six-one-six.”

“Authorisation code accepted.”

The door swung open, lights flicking on as they entered. They followed a short hall to a set of stairs and up to another door that also needed Bruce’s fingerprints. It opened into a large control room with a huge clear window overlooking the rest of the building. SHIELD had reinforced the walls, ceiling and floor with their indestructible Hulk-proof material, the space big enough for even him to run around. A door led from the control room down steps that were built into the wall without a balustrade, leaving nothing protruding for Hulk to grab.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Natasha.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“You have to swear to stay in this room, okay? And if anything happens, you call for help and you get outside. You call Happy, alright?”

“I swear.” She nodded.

Bruce sighed. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

He took off his shirt and pants, folding them over a chair. Nat sat at the desk as he opened the door and locked himself in the open space, taking the stairs slowly. The redhead found the right buttons to turn on the sound system and the lights at the far end of the building.

“Can you hear me?”

“Unfortunately.” Bruce griped.

“You’d think they’d give you stuff to play with.”

He chuckled. “I think they’re afraid their special glass won’t hold up to a flying object. Sometimes they project cartoons on the wall.”

Nat snorted. “You a 3D animation guy or more old-fashioned?”

“Traditional and old-fashioned are not the same thing!”

 

He’d made his way to the middle of the room now, looking terribly small in the huge room. Nat folded her arms on the edge of the desk.

“Alright, doc. Let him out.”

Nothing happened, Bruce looking up at her with a conflicted grimace.

“You have to find out sometime.”

“What if it’s bad?”

“Then we deal with it. Better to know now than when it actually counts, right?”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Bruce,” she said, tone more serious, “This is important. We need to see if Hulk’s okay, and honestly? I think you both need to blow off some steam. So go on.”

He hunkered down, hands on his knees. Nat waited silently. She didn’t want to influence Hulk’s appearance in any way; they needed a baseline of his current mood without external factors. Her being there at all was probably too much interference, but she needed to see just as much as Bruce. She needed to know the dangerous man from her nightmares was really gone.

After ten minutes, she tutted. “You’re overthinking this.”

“Can you blame me?”

“The sooner you Hulk out, the sooner we can go home.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“Sorry.”

His arm snapped to the side, teeth clenched as he cried out. Bruce’s muscles swelled as his skin darkened, and then Hulk was standing in the middle of the dry dock with his head thrown back, roaring. Nat had to steel herself to keep from running away at the first deep bellow, fingers hooking on to the edge of the desk.

She watched him carefully, waiting for a reaction. Hulk spent a minute stretching himself out, and then looking around to assess the environment. He beat his fists on the floor but not in a threatening way, more like a child having a tantrum.

“Okay. Cartoons.”

Natasha looked over the console and found the projector controls, skimming through the list of available movies. She spotted one title and smiled, pressing play. Hulk whipped around curiously as the Muppet Movie started on the wall, the image as big as him, sound blaring through the speakers. He sniffed, tilting his head as he examined it, and then sat heavily on the concrete with a spellbound look on his face.

Natasha couldn’t have felt more relieved. It was in no way a definitive test; in half an hour or so she’d have to try speaking to him to gauge if her presence was going to provoke anything, but it was a good sign. Her phone rang and she pulled it out, raising a brow at the blocked number.

“Hello?”

“Agent Romanov, would you care to explain what you’re doing at the harbour safehouse?” Fury barked.

“Supervising Hulk, sir.”

“And you didn’t think I might appreciate a heads up?”

 

“If the facility is as safe as SHIELD claims, I don’t see why you need to worry, sir.”

“I know you think you can handle him but that’s not your call to make.”

“I did well enough during Kessel’s interrogation, sir. You assigned me to the role yourself.”

“That was with hundreds of trained agents around. The Hulk security protocols are extensive, Natasha. I need jets on standby whenever he’s in the Tri-State area.”

“Your trust is overwhelming, director.”

“Fuck trust! This is about caution, and several million civilian lives that might be in jeopardy.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “Apologies, sir. I should have notified you.”

He huffed, dropping his angry tone. “How is he?”

“Currently staring at the Muppets like they’re the greatest thing since smashing.”

“Excellent. Keep me informed if anything changes.”

“I will, sir.”

“And Natasha? Anything you can do to get him field-ready again would be well received here.”

“I’ll do my best, director.”

She hung up, weighing Hulk’s mood. He was laughing in his quiet, rumbling, snorting way. It was probably the most cheerful he was going to get. Nat threw on the light in the control booth and paused the movie, standing so he could see her better.

“Hey buddy.”

He gave a gruff bark like a question, frowning as he stood. His head was almost level with the booth if he stood on tiptoes, and he leaned on the wall to peer in at her.

“Tasha?”

She smiled. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He pointed at the frozen Muppets and snuffled. “Play?”

“I’ll put it back on in a second, I just wanted to talk first. Is that okay?”

He looked annoyed, but nodded, and Natasha realised she had no idea what to say. _‘Do you feel like you’re about to go on a murderous rampage?’_ seemed a bit harsh. _‘Are you horny?’_ was even worse. Oh well, she’d start small.

“Are you having fun?”

“Play.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Do you feel comfortable? Not strange, or sick?”

“Happy. Play!”

She bit her lip to hold in a sigh. There was a reason Nat didn’t do well with children. “Yeah, okay.”

“Tasha watch?”

“I can see it.”

“Watch here.” He stabbed a chubby finger on the ground next to him.

 

Nat paused. There was no way in hell she should go in there, not with a broken hip and no backup. Fury had probably hooked into the facility surveillance but he wouldn’t be able to stop her getting squished from his office. A month or two ago it would have been fine, but after the experiments Hulk was possibly unstable, and she shouldn’t risk it.

But they needed him in the field, which meant putting him near other people. If she didn’t test it, how would they know if he could handle it or not? It wasn’t something they should trial in an open situation where innocents might get hurt. Nat was a familiar face, and she had a better chance of talking him down if he started getting violent.

She sent Happy a text asking him to come back and wait at the gate just in case. She put the movie back on, Hulk quickly settling into a tailor’s seat, staring rapt at the screen. Then she opened the door and hobbled onto the landing, propping it open behind her.

Hulk stuck his lip out, patting the ground. “Here.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Here!”

“Tasha’s hurt. She can’t walk very well, so the stairs are a bit of a bitch.” She held up her cane to illustrate the point.

Hulk scowled. “Who hurt Tasha?”

She decided to skate right over that one. “I’ll watch from up here, okay?”

Huge green hands reached up and plucked her off the stair, Natasha’s heart bursting through her chest as she tried to hold on. But he only set her on the floor as gently as he could (which still jarred her bones, but she was grateful for the effort).

“Watch.” He beamed down at her.

“Thank you.” The redhead forced a smile, shoving away the nervous tension running through her body. She’d be okay. They were just watching a movie, everything nice and calm, two friends hanging out with no smashing or screaming.

Hulk giggled at the screen, clapping his hands loud enough to make her ears pop. He looked down at her with a huge smile and Natasha couldn’t help returning it sincerely. It was so weird how Hulk came off as a terrifying, unstoppable monster when people didn’t know him, because with his teammates he was more like a giant, boisterous toddler.

Nat tried to relax after that. There was no point being constantly poised to run, because with her hip she’d never make it to the stairs, let alone up to the control room. If Hulk was going to freak out and attack her, she was pretty much screwed, so it seemed stupid to worry about it. They watched the rest of the movie, the big green man making the building quiver with his laughs but never intruding on her personal space.

When the credits started rolling, Hulk looked at her. “Again?”

“The same one?” she screwed up her face.

“Again.”

“How about different Muppets?”

He pouted, enormous green lip stuck out petulantly. “Again!”

“I promise, this one’s just as funny. You trust Natasha, right?”

He grunted under his breath but nodded, and Natasha hauled herself up to make the trek upstairs and change the film. The ground disappeared from under her feet as Hulk lifted her onto the landing, and she wobbled for a second when he let go.

“Thanks.”

“Hulk help Tasha.” He smiled amiably.

She took a breath as she walked inside. “Yeah, apparently so.”

 

Hulk passed out halfway through the next movie. One minute he was bobbing his head along with the songs; the next he was blinking sleepily and yawning, and then he lay curled up on the concrete and started snoring. Natasha trudged back upstairs and grabbed Bruce’s clothes, carrying them down. By the time she got there he’d started shrinking, skin turning pink again as his muscles collapsed in on themselves and he was just Bruce again. She set his stuff down by his head and turned to go.

“Nat?”

The spy looked over her shoulder as Bruce lifted his head, squinting at her blearily. “Hey doc. Welcome back.”

“What happened?” he sat up, “Is everything okay?”

“Peachy keen. Hulk watched some brightly coloured kids’ shows, we chatted, all good.”

“You chatted?” Bruce frowned.

“Yeah. Hulk’s small talk is pretty small, but we got by.”

His face furrowed into shocked distress. “You were in here. I remember, you were in here with Hulk!”

“I had to see how he’d react-”

Bruce scrambled to his feet, pulling on his clothes angrily. “You put yourself in unthinkable danger, Natasha!”

“Watching from up there wasn’t going to tell us what we needed to know.”

“I only agreed to this because you said you’d be safe behind the glass!” he glowered, “And then you go around every precaution and security measure and cosy up to him like a lamb to the slaughter!”

“And he didn’t _do anything_ , Bruce. He was perfect.”

“You couldn’t know that. You could have been killed at any moment.”

“That’s always the risk of being around Hulk. I’m used to that – we’re all used to it.”

“It’s not the same and you know it!” he thundered.

“Bruce, you know me well enough to know I don’t take unnecessary risks. I wouldn’t have come in if I doubted Hulk.”

“All it takes is a second, Nat,” he shook his head, eyes bright and angry, “One second where his mood switches and then you’re a stain on the concrete. I thought you’d be smarter than that.”

He took off up the stairs, moving brusquely.

“Bruce, wait!”

But he was already gone. Nat struggled to catch up, moving as fast as she could, until her hip ached in complaint. When she got outside Happy was waiting by the car.

“Where’s Bruce?”

“Dr Banner said he’d find his own way back.”

Nat bit her lip, leaning on the fence. Why was it every time she tried to help, she just made things worse?

*****

Bruce wasn’t in his lab when she got back to the Tower, and according to Jarvis he’d blocked access to his apartment. Nat went back to her room feeling like shit and typed up a short report for Fury, recommending Hulk for mission duty. She figured Bruce would take a night to calm down, then realise Hulk had been on his best behaviour and could be trusted again, and then they’d be fine again.

Apparently she underestimated the doctor. Bruce didn’t speak to her for a week. Every time she tried to get him alone he left the room, and not in the guilty way he’d done it when she first got home – this was huffy and obvious, like a teenage girl. Even someone as self-absorbed as Tony couldn’t miss it.

“What’s up with you and Brucey?” he asked, leaning on the kitchen island with his coffee.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She said smoothly, slicing her fruit for breakfast.

“Come on, Romanov. He storms out every time you say a word to him. Do you two like the same boy or something?”

“We had a disagreement about his readiness for the field. That’s all, Stark.”

“Fury said he was cleared for missions.”

“Yes, because I vouched for him.”

“That sounds like something Bruce should be thanking you for, not having a continuous tantrum.”

“Tony, if he was having a real tantrum, your tower would be rubble right now.”

“Still.”

She sighed, scraping the chunks of apple and melon into a bowl. “Bruce thinks I don’t take Hulk seriously enough.”

“Okaaaayy...way to be vague, Nat.”

“He’ll be fine, he just needs to go on a few missions and prove to himself that the experiments didn’t change him.”

“And in the meantime I think I’ll go bother him for help on a project or two. Get his mind off it.”

She smiled tightly. “Thanks Tony.”

“Yeah, you’ll owe me one.” He smirked, straightening.

“I’ll write it down next to the two hundred you owe me.”

The billionaire snorted, wandering out. Nat waited until he was out of earshot.

“Next time you try to eavesdrop on me, I’ll put a knife in your shooting arm and then we’ll see how super your aim is.”

Clint somersaulted down from the top of the fridge and shrugged. “I’m brilliant with both and you know it. Besides, you’re used to me eavesdropping.”

“Smartass.” She shook her head, peeling a banana.

“Why’s Bruce really pissed?”

“Why would you think I lied to Tony?”

“I don’t, I just know there’s more to the story. Stuff you might not be able to explain to Stark.”

“It’s not about the woods, or at least not directly. I just haven’t told the guys because they’ll probably side with Bruce and then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

 

“So tell me.”

She sighed. “When I vetted Hulk, I figured I had to push his limits or the exercise was pointless. I left the safe control room and went into the containment area, and we ended up sitting next to each other for hours. And now Bruce is super pissed that I put myself in danger.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“No, I mean I’m really proud of you, Tash. After everything that happened, you trusted him that much. You’re probably the bravest person I know.”

“Or the stupidest.”

He winked. “Hey, you said it, not me.”

“The point is,” she glared at him, “Bruce thinks I’m crazy or reckless and he doesn’t seem to be getting over it.”

“He’s an expert at the various forms of anger, you know.”

“I’m aware.”

“So talk to him.”

“I can’t! He won’t let me.”

“Bullshit. You’re Natasha Romanov, Black Widow. You can get in anywhere to see anyone.”

“I don’t think forcing my way into his space is going to help, given that he’s upset about me being in his space.”

“You’re tenacious. Just keep wearing him down until he gets over it.”

“Clint, Bruce is not a person I can annoy into forgiving me. His breaking point isn’t going to be ‘yell for a bit and talk it out’. Tony will kill me if the Tower gets wrecked again.”

“Why do you care? You can take Stark.”

“Clint...”

He shrugged. “What choice do you have? You can’t work on a team together with all this tension. If he won’t stay and talk to you, you gotta get him in a corner.”

“And put us all in danger?”

“Doesn’t have to be a one-on-one showdown.” He stole a piece of banana from her bowl.

Nat turned the knife in her hand. “You might actually have a point, Birdbreath.”

“I’m a genius, I know.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

Bruce was drying his dishes when Jarvis interrupted.

“Dr Banner, I have Dr Redding to see you.”

“We don’t have an appointment. Let me speak to him?”

There was a brief pause and then the psych’s voice flowed out of the speakers. “Dr Banner, sorry to bother you, but Director Fury has asked me to give you a final assessment before you can be fully cleared for active fieldwork.”

“It’s okay, Jarvis.”

Bruce hung up his towel and walked into the main room just as the doors opened and Dr Redding stepped out.

“I don’t really need the assessment, doctor. I’m not rushing to get back in the field.”

“Director Fury assured me you passed the required tests.” Redding frowned.

“’Test’ is a strong word. I conducted a small experiment, yeah. Doesn’t mean I’m anxious to get back in the action.”

“But he’s cleared you-”

“Because he wants Hulk, not because I asked him to.”

“Oh. Perhaps we could talk about that then. Why are you reluctant to return to your regular duties?”

Bruce shook his head. “I’m not really looking to be analysed right now, Dr Redding. I need to get my head in the right place before we can talk.”

“Being in the field is about reacting on the fly, Bruce.”

“First off, I don’t care about the field. Second, Hulk has no problem making fast decisions.”

“Still,” the shrink smiled dryly, “I did come all this way.”

Bruce sighed internally and flopped into an armchair. “Fine.”

Dr Redding took a seat on the couch opposite, laying his tablet in his lap. “Now. Why don’t you want to go into the field?”

“Because I don’t think we can be sure yet that Hulk won’t have an unpredictable reaction, and he’s too destructive to risk it.”

“Director Fury was satisfied with the results of your ‘experiment’. As the person responsible for any damage caused by Hulk, don’t you think his faith in you is a good sign?”

“Fury’s not in my head, doctor. He doesn’t know me.”

“Do you think there’s a possibility you’re letting your fear influence you more than it should? You haven’t had a negative incident since the kidnapping, not even in the first few days when the chance of lingering effects was much higher. You were been able to talk to me without losing control of your emotional state.”

“This is my optimal environment. There are no outside distractions or threats. It’s easier to focus on myself and maintain control. But out in the field, anything could happen, and I don’t know if one seemingly insignificant thing is gonna set Hulk off.”

Dr Redding pursed his lips. “Bruce, have you left the Tower at all since the abduction?”

“Once.”

“For the test?”

“Yes.”

“So you haven’t tried being around other people – strangers – and outside noises?”

 

Bruce shook his head.

“Do you think that might be a way to slowly reintroduce yourself to stimuli and reassure yourself nothing’s going to happen?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Possibly, but you can’t stay in this building for the rest of your life.”

“I shouldn’t be in the city at all.”

“Running away and hiding are not healthy options. You need to immerse yourself in the thing you fear so you can see it’s not so scary.”

The ventilation duct dropped open and Natasha tumbled into the room, landing on her hands. She carefully righted herself, flashing a smile at the stunned men.

“I can go with you, if it helps.”

“What the hell are you doing here!” Bruce stood.

“Waiting for an opportunity to make my entrance.”

“Natasha, this is a private therapy session! I know you’re a spy so you don’t really understand the concept of privacy, but even you should get that I don’t want an audience.”

“You’ve been constantly brushing me off for a week now. I figured we need to talk about our issues, and the only way to get you to do that was to have Dr Redding present.”

“You knew about this?” Bruce rounded on him.

“I did not.” He held up his hands.

“I knew Fury would send someone to sign you off as psychologically fit, so I asked Jarvis to alert me when the good doctor showed.”

“So not only are you spying on me, you’re getting Jarvis to help you do it. Wow, that’s just great.”

“Dr Banner, there seems to be a remarkable amount of tension between you two. If Agent Romanov thinks I can help, I’d like to try.”

“Don’t side with her!”

Dr Redding held up a finger. “I do not take sides, Bruce. I am a professional.”

“Bruce is pissed at me because he thinks I endangered myself getting too close to Hulk, which is really a deflection of his own fear that he might have hurt me.” Natasha folded her arms over her chest with an accusing look.

“ _Or_ it’s a logical, normal human reaction to someone being a suicidal idiot.” Bruce snapped.

“Okay, why don’t we all sit down so we can discuss this like adults?” Dr Redding raised his brows.

Bruce gave Natasha a huffy look but sat. Nat arranged herself in the armchair like a fussy housecat, her own irritation making her more confrontational than she’d intended.

“Natasha, how close were you to the Hulk?”

“We sat next to each other; probably about three feet.”

“And was there a realistic escape route if things turned sour?”

She pressed her lips together. Bruce sat forward. “There were _stairs_ that she couldn’t get up.”

“I could.”

“Not fast enough.”

 

Nat opened her mouth to retort and Dr Redding cut her off. “Agent Romanov, was the situation likely to prove harmful to you?”

“Define likely.”

“Did it seem like you might be injured or killed by being there?”

“I didn’t think Bruce or Hulk was going to hurt me, so no.”

“You couldn’t know that, Nat! I hadn’t Hulked out since the kidnapping, and we agreed you had to stay back until we were sure!”

“You mean until _you_ were sure. I made a judgment call at the time and I was right.”

“And if you hadn’t been? You’d be dead – or worse.”

“I don’t need to be babied, Bruce. I’ve been taking care of myself for decades, and I don’t need anyone telling me what to do. If I think it’s a worthwhile risk, then I trust my own opinion.”

“You think I’m babying you?” he blanched, “Natasha, I’m just trying to keep you safe!”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

Dr Redding flicked open a file on his tablet. “You are still injured, Agent Romanov. Do you think that factors into Dr Banner’s perception of your ability to look after yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Does it factor into yours?”

“I’m not an idiot. I know I can’t outrun anyone for another couple of weeks.”

“So your opinion of Hulk’s temperament aside, you acknowledge there was a real risk that your fracture would have hampered your escape and led to further injury or death?”

“Yes.” She grumbled.

“So it’s understandable that Dr Banner worries you aren’t looking after yourself to the best of your ability,” he said, turning to Bruce, “And it’s also understandable that as an objective outsider, Natasha might see that Hulk isn’t a threat when you are unable to make that call.”

He frowned. “I suppose. But she’s not in my head-”

“Something you said about Director Fury as well. Perhaps that is an advantage, Bruce. You are biased by your fear that Hulk will escape you, so you exercise more caution than needed.”

“Me being cautious keeps people safe.”

“And that must be a terrible burden. Why not let Agent Romanov help you deal with some of that?”

“How?” Bruce shook his head.

“You trust her in the field, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then you know she has an excellent grasp on evaluating potentially dangerous situations and identifying threats.”

“Yeah.”

“So if she doesn’t consider Hulk a threat, maybe he’s not as dangerous as you think.”

Bruce looked at Natasha pleadingly. “You can’t know that, Nat. Even if he _is_ perfectly harmless, that could change in an instant.”

“Or it might not. You might be totally fine.”

“It’s not worth you getting hurt to find out.”

 

“Is this about me?” she asked, “Would you be this concerned if it was Steve or Tony or Thor?”

“No, because they’re not injured, and because I can’t do as much damage to them.”

“And it’s got nothing to do with the rape.”

“What? No!”

“You don’t think less of me? You don’t think I’m more delicate, weaker, less able to hold my own?”

“God no! Jesus Nat, I know you’re not weak. But you have a broken hip, and you’re not at your best, and I...”

“You don’t think I can handle myself.”

“Not right now, no. I know it’s not forever but right now, I am concerned about your wellbeing.”

Dr Redding smiled at her. “I know that must be difficult for you, Natasha. Having connections, being part of a team like this, having people who care. It doesn’t mean they doubt you, it just means they don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’m used to getting by on my own. Surviving.”

“It’s okay to let them care. It’s not an attack on you; in fact, it’s the opposite.”

She frowned at Bruce. “But there’s a difference between caring and mollycoddling. Hulk was fine, Bruce. I wouldn’t have gone in there if I’d thought he was volatile. I promise you, I’m not that stupid.”

“Well...I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was trying to wrap you in cotton wool. But you scared the hell outta me, Nat. When I thought that something could have so easily happened...I don’t wanna be responsible for any more pain, especially not for my teammates.”

“I should have talked to you about it first.”

“And I shouldn’t have been such a dick about it after.”

“Jerk.” She smiled.

“Yeah,” he ruffled his hair, “Sorry.”

“So are you gonna stop hiding up here like Rapunzel?”

Bruce glanced at Dr Redding. “I think maybe I’ll start taking walks. Going out more. I think maybe I’ve been avoiding it because I’m afraid of another attack, and I’ve been using Hulk as an excuse.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I’d like that.”

“We’ll take care of each other.”

He nodded, and Natasha reached out to take his hand. Dr Redding put his things away.

“Well, I think if Dr Banner spends some more time outside and feels more comfortable around civilians, there’s no reason he can’t be cleared for duty. I’ll let Director Fury know.”

“Thank you, Dr Redding.” Bruce shook his hand.

“Don’t thank me, Bruce. You’re the one who has to do all the work from here out.”

He called the elevator and Nat sighed.

“I think I need waffles, after all that touchy feely crap. Wanna come?”

“Outside?”

“No time like the present.”

Bruce nodded. “Sure. Let’s get waffles.”

*****

When they returned from their waffle adventure (without any rampages or property damage), Tony was waiting on Natasha’s floor.

“Stark?” she frowned, “Why are you buzzing around like an irritating, hyperactive bee?”

“I finished your cane!”

“You know I won’t need the walking stick much longer, right?”

“Come on, Thor’s upstairs with his supposedly awe-inspiring offering, and I wanna rub my personally-designed badassery in his face.”

“That sounds explicit.” Natasha said straight-faced, making Bruce snort.

“Just come pick, alright!” Tony grabbed her hand and tugged her back into the elevator.

“Jesus, fine. But your marketing needs work.”

The trio rode up to the common floor, where Steve and Clint were standing guard over a long metal tube, Thor at the other end of the table with his hands placed protectively on a wooden box that had decorative runes burned into the sides.

“Who goes first?” Steve asked.

“Me, obviously.” Tony scoffed.

Thor smirked. “I have no quibble with that, Stark. Does the Midgardian expression not say to save the best for last?”

“Flip a coin.” Bruce suggested.

“Heads!” Tony shouted, “I dibs heads.”

Nat fished a quarter out of her jeans and flicked it up into the air, catching it deftly.

“Bruce?” she held it out.

“Tails.”

“Goddamn it!”

Thor came forward, beaming as he carried his box. He knelt, holding it steady for her. Nat lifted the lid and gasped. The cane was black, made of something that seemed to draw in the light around it and gave it an almost imperceptible, otherworldly glow. It was long and slender at the bottom, tapering up to a carved globe with a spider on top, its legs wrapping around the sphere. The spider’s eyes were rubies, and it had a Black Widow hourglass on its back inset with hundreds of tiny red gems. She lifted it out of its case, brows shooting up.

“It’s not as heavy as it looks.”

“It is a technique of the smiths; the way they fold and pour the metal keeps it light.”

“It’s gorgeous, Thor,” she set it against the carpet, testing it as she took a few steps, “And it does the job.”

“Don’t get distracted by his shiny Asgardian frills.” Tony fretted.

“It is probably a bit too ostentatious, Thor.” She gave him an apologetic look.

The blond’s face fell and Nat walked over, kissing his cheek.

“I like it a lot though.”

He brightened and took it back when she offered, looking at Tony expectantly.

“Stark?”

 

He rubbed his hands together and took the tube from Steve, unscrewing the end. “Hold onto your panties, Romanov.”

“Ew.” Clint screwed up his face.

“Aw shut up, Barton.”

He held out the casing and tipped it so the cane slid out into Nat’s hands. It was shiny silver, rubber-tipped at the bottom with a gold-plated cross-shaped handle.

“I might take that ostentatious comment back.” She drawled.

“It’s got all the goodies, Tash. Blow torch, small throwing knives, taser, and best of all...”

He unscrewed the top and lifted it out to reveal a clear plastic vial fitted into the bottom of the handle.

“A flask!”

“Wow. Uh, this is a tough one.”

“Give it a test drive.” He thrust it at her.

Nat took the walking stick and crossed the room experimentally.

“Well?” Tony asked impatiently.

“It’s great, but I don’t think I’m gonna need that much firepower in the tower. So I’ll keep Tony’s for excursions outside, and use Thor’s while I’m at home.”

“Copout.” Clint muttered.

She whacked him in the back of the calf with her stick and the archer yelped, scurrying out of reach. Natasha smirked at Tony.

“I think I might keep carrying these things around even after my hip’s healed.”

“They do seem handy.” Steve agreed.

“Maybe I could make a version that dispenses hypodermic injections,” Tony’s eyes narrowed, “For when we find our despicable friends Smith and Jones.”

“Has there been any news?” Nat looked around, eyes stopping on Clint since he was least likely to avoid answering.

“They’re shadows. Almost myths,” the agent scowled, “Fury’s taken the case off our hands while the regular agents gather intel.”

“What?” Bruce frowned.

“There’s no point leaving it with us when we have no leads,” Steve shrugged, “Our time can be better used on the stuff the other SHIELD personnel can’t handle.”

“We’re still involved, Brucey,” Tony assured him, “Trust me, if Fury tried to leave us out of the loop I’d tear him several new ones. As soon as they know anything, we’ll be back on the hunt.”

“Good.” Nat said.

“Good?”

“Gives me some time to get better so I can chase the bastards myself.”

Tony laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll be up and scaring the shit out of criminals again in no time.”

 

But despite the genius’ confidence, Nat was still building up her training routine when the next mission came down. She was in the gym when the alarms started, stretching her legs on the practice mats. Steve jumped off his treadmill, yanking his earbuds out.

“Jarvis?”

“An urgent summons from Director Fury himself, sir.”

“Let’s suit up.” The captain glanced at Clint.

The archer stepped away from his punching bag, unstrapping his hands hurriedly. Steve jogged out and Nat rolled to her feet, approaching the other agent.

“Don’t start, Tash – you’re not cleared for the field and I’m not sneaking you out there. Six different people will kick my ass.”

“It’s not that. Will you keep an eye on Bruce?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“You might have to haul him out of his room.”

“I think I can manage that.”

She gave him a critical look and Clint snickered.

“Alright, Thor and Steve can manage it, but I’ll supervise.”

She kissed his cheek and he winked, hurrying out. Natasha wasn’t sure what to do. She could hitch a ride to SHIELD and keep an eye on things from the Ops room, but what was the point? She would either be in the way or feel even more useless. She slowly headed upstairs, not wanting to run into any of the others. The redhead thought maybe she could have a shower and then ask Jarvis to show her what was happening, which would be slightly less pathetic than watching at HQ.

Natasha made it to her room and started undressing, wincing as she peeled the sweat-soaked material down her legs. Then her phone rang.

She growled in frustration and pulled her trousers up again, diving to answer. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

The spy frowned. “Bruce? Why aren’t you with the others?”

“Uh, I am. I’m on the jet to HQ.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I needed...um...God, this is stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“If Tony hears me he’ll start asking questions.”

“Bruce,” she said gently, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t have a right to ask you of all people to reassure me Hulk’s not dangerous, but I need to hear it from someone and the team’s usual ‘You’re one of the good guys, pal!’ isn’t gonna cut it. I guess I thought you’ve spent the most time with him lately and...”

“It’s fine, Bruce. I know you can do this. Hulk shook off what Kessel did like you shake a 24 hour bug. All that stuff is over with, and you’re both ready to get back to work.”

“What if he’s not? What if I slip?”

“It’s not gonna happen, but if it did you’re surrounded by superheroes who can stop Hulk hurting anyone.”

“They think I’m fine.”

Natasha bit her lip. “Keep an eye out for Clint. If you feel like Hulk’s pulling out of your control, try to get a signal to Clint. He’ll know something’s not right.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“I just wish I could be there with you guys.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologising.”

“I wish you were here too. You have this way of laying things out that helps me keep my head straight. Is that fucked up?”

“Why would it be?”

“Because you should hate me and instead you help me.”

“Bruce,” she smiled, “When are you going to figure out I don’t hold grudges unless they’re really good ones?”

He laughed. “And I don’t make the cut?”

“Not even close.”

“I could try harder, if you like.”

“I don’t think you’re up to it. You’d need to go full Viking style – loot my fields, murder my family, that sort of thing.”

“You don’t have fields.”

“How do you know?”

He chuckled, sighing loudly. “Thanks Tasha.”

“Go kick some ass for me.”

“Deal.”

He hung up and she pressed the phone to her lip thoughtfully. Maybe she could still contribute after all.

 

Natasha watched the fight on her couch, wrapped in a fluffy robe as she brushed out her curls. It was sort of surreal to be so safe and comfortable while her friends risked their lives. It was interesting too though, watching from a distance, assessing the team strategy and style. She was going to tell Tony he needed to work on his blocking instead of relying on the suit so much.

The Avengers won easily, and the news reports got boring after the team left for debrief, so Nat dressed and did her physio strength exercises until she heard the familiar sound of the jet overhead. The Russian went upstairs to meet them on the common floor, stepping into the elevator to find Happy holding multiple bulging bags of takeout.

“Hey Happy. Indian?” she sniffed.

“Yeah. Tony ordered it special for Dr Banner, you know, like a welcome back thing.”

“Did Tony say anything about the mission?”

“Nah, you know him. Just told me he’d placed an order and to bring it up for them.”

The doors opened and Natasha went to the kitchen to grab plates as Happy started unpacking things on the table. The elevator dinged and the team walked in, still in their gear, sweaty and dirty and a bit bruised but laughing. Bruce was wearing his post-Hulk sweatpants and t-shirt, this one bright green with a chibi scientist holding a beaker that Nat suspected Tony had given him. He looked exhausted and grey like he always did after a transformation, but he was joking and smiling cheerfully.

“Aw, Happy – my hero!” Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder as he sat and immediately started spooning rice onto his plate.

“Natasha helped.” He ducked his head.

“Hey Nat. Did you see me taking out bad guys like a mofo?” Clint beamed.

“You were very impressive, dear.”

“Thanks Mum.” He said cheekily, helping himself to a stack of naan.

The others took their seats, Thor placing Mjölnir on the empty chair beside him, and attacked the heaps of food with gusto. Nat ended up between Steve and Tony, opposite Clint. When the archer took a break from stuffing his face to look up, she caught his eye and glanced at her hands pointedly.

_All good?_

He signed back behind the cover of his glass and a plastic container.

_A+._

Natasha smiled and started on her own lunch, asking questions about the mission and poking fun at them, glad to see Bruce joining in. It was like things were finally back to normal – except that she should have been suited up as well. It was okay though. She was almost there.

 

When they’d finished and gone off to shower and chill out, Natasha started clearing the mess. She took an armful of plates into the kitchen and started rinsing them in the sink, looking up as someone set a tower of dirty glasses on the counter next to her.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Bruce smiled.

“Why aren’t you asleep or in a bath or something?”

“I’m too riled up to sleep yet. Thought you could use a hand.”

“I’m good, I’m just going to load these into the dishwasher anyway.”

“Well then I can help with that. Might be easier than you trying to reach the bottom rack.”

“Alright,” she conceded, rinsing the cups, “You seem pretty chipper.”

He looked up from slotting plates into the machine. “I feel amazing. I helped people, Nat. I stopped the bad guys and helped, and Hulk didn’t waver for a second.”

“That’s great.”

“It’s thanks to you. When we got to the scene everyone started piling out of the jet and I was so scared, but you said I could do it so I let myself change. And it was fine!” he beamed.

“I told you it would be, worrywart.”

“So anyway, thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

Bruce took the cups and stacked them on the top shelf. “Have they given you an idea of when you’ll be back out there with us?”

“Not long now.”

“Great.”

“Yep. Just gotta pass those damn tests.”

“You’ll ace them.”

She smirked. “Look at Mr Optimistic all of a sudden.”

Bruce shrugged. “Must be contagious.”

“Well you didn’t catch it from me.”

“I blame Clint.”

“I’m okay with that.”

*****

Natasha stood impatiently in front of Fury’s desk, hands clasped before her. The director looked over his files, seemingly taking as long as possible just to make her sweat.

“Dr Jacobs says you’re completely healed.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you’ve been training according to your normal routine without incident?”

“Yes sir.”

“Dr Singh also feels confident you can return to the field.”

Natasha didn’t respond, gaze narrowing. Dr Singh could mind her own business from now on.

“Theoretically there’s no reason for me to keep you on the bench.”

Natasha perked up. That didn’t sound encouraging. “Sir, I was under the impression you wanted me back as soon as possible.”

“I do, Agent Romanov,” he tossed the papers down, leaning back in his chair, “But there are things to consider.”

“Such as?”

“Like where you’ll do the most good.”

“Director, I assure you I’m ready.”

“I don’t doubt that. But I also don’t want your first mission to be disrupted if you get into the field with Hulk and find you’re not as prepared as we thought.”

“Sir, I don’t have a problem with Hulk or Dr Banner.”

“And if that changes, I want it to be after a few successful missions so we can identify the problem rather than confusing it with nerves.”

She ground her teeth. “Sir, I am a member of the Avengers Initiative.”

“You’re also my agent, and I can assign you to whatever I like. This isn’t up for debate, Romanov. I want to give you a solid foundation for getting back into the rhythm of things around here. No missions with the team until I say so.”

At least she’d be back in the field. Any mission was better than nothing. “How are you planning to explain that to them?”

“I’m not. You’re my operative.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m sending you to meet with a Ukrainian arms dealer. He’s staying in New York, possibly to meet with local buyers. We need to find out who they might be.”

“How would you like me to handle it, sir?”

“Get him alone and interrogate him. We don’t want to tip the buyers off by bringing him in, but if he won’t talk we might have to.”

He slid a folder across the table towards her.

“Details are in there. I’m assigning Agent Barton as your backup. He’ll provide cover if you need to get out in a hurry.”

There was a knock at the door. Fury gestured for Nat to wait.

“Come in.”

 

Commander Hill stepped inside with a tablet, crossing to Fury’s desk. “Sir, we’ve pinpointed Smith and Jones.”

Fury’s eyes darted to Natasha as she drew herself up. “Sir.”

“Romanov, I already gave you a target.”

“You can’t keep me out of this one.”

“I absolutely can. You’re emotionally involved, and you’re returning from sick leave. You’re not fit for this assignment.”

“This mission involves finding out what these people know about Bruce, the Hulk and the super soldier serum, which I imagine makes it your top priority. You need me.”

“I do not. Unbelievable as it may seem, I have a thousand agents out there just as good as you!” he pointed.

“No, you don’t.”

Fury turned to Hill, ignoring her. “Find May. She can take point with-”

Nat slammed her hands on the desk, Fury raising a brow disdainfully. “Director, if you give this assignment to anyone but me, I will walk out of this building for good. I’ll go dark, and you won’t see me again.”

“That stubborn need to be involved? That anger and frustration? That’s exactly why I don’t want to give it to you.”

Natasha clenched her jaw. “So there’s no chance you’ll reconsider?”

“No. But I hope that once you’ve left this room and calmed down a bit, you’ll see the logic in my argument. I’d hate to lose you, Natasha – but I won’t endanger you or your teammates by putting you on this mission.”

Nat nodded succinctly and turned on the spot, marching out. If Fury hadn’t wanted her to get involved, maybe he should have made sure Hill wasn’t holding the intel in front of a reflective surface.

Fury would be watching her as closely as possible to make sure she didn’t try to get around his orders. From what she had seen of Hill’s screen, she had the location of Smith and Jones but nothing else. The alert was probably being sent to the Avengers already. The team could be on site in fifteen minutes, whereas she’d never make it back to the Tower in that time. She had two options: go home and try to sneak along, which Steve would never allow, or show up mid-assault when they couldn’t do much about it.

Natasha made her way down to the garage, the picture of perfect innocence, and thought through her transport options. As much as she hated it, she’d have to stop by the Tower for her gear, and hope the team didn’t wrap up the mission before she got there. But Tony’s cars were also at the Tower, and that had potential.

 

She wouldn’t have put it past Fury to arrange all red lights just to keep her stuck in traffic, but Nat actually made it to the Tower in under ten minutes. She punched the button for her floor, holding on to the elevator rail anxiously. This was stupid. It shouldn’t matter to her so much, and yet it did. Nat was big on debts and the mysterious Smith and Jones owed her a big one, which she would be happy to take in blood.

The redhead whirled through her apartment like a hurricane, throwing on her suit and taking her Bites out of the weapon safe, finding every piece of equipment she might need and shoving it in a go bag. She fastened her belt, checking she had everything.

“Jarvis, when did the others leave?”

“Sir, Captain Rogers, Prince Thor and Agent Barton were picked up ten minutes ago. Dr Banner is still in his lab.”

“What?” she stopped, “Bruce didn’t want to go?”

“My directions from Director Fury were to relay his message to everyone but Dr Banner, ma’am.”

Was Fury insane? If he was worried Hulk would get out of hand now, what did he think was going to happen when the others got back and told Bruce he’d been purposely left out while they captured his tormentors? Nat grabbed her stuff and hurried to the R&D level. Maybe Bruce being there was dangerous, but she’d prefer he get his aggression out on the people who deserved it, rather than rip the Tower apart.

She hammered on the glass door and let herself in without waiting, Bruce looking up startled. He glanced at her outfit and frowned.

“What’s going on? Did Fury clear you for missions?”

“Bruce, they found Smith and Jones.”

He froze. “What?”

“SHIELD found them, and they’ve sent the others to get them, but we didn’t get invites because Fury doesn’t trust either of us to stay focussed.”

The scientist stood, hands shaking with rage, irises turning a swirling luminous green, and Nat grabbed his arm urgently.

“Keep it together, or I might find myself agreeing with him.”

Bruce clenched his teeth, breathing out in a hiss, but the colour drained from his eyes. “Sorry. I just...”

“Yeah. I just too, and I know where they are, so I’m going to help and I don’t care what Fury does to me afterwards. Are you coming?”

“How do you know where they are if Fury wouldn’t tell you?”

“I was there when Hill reported it.”

“Oh.”

Nat glanced at the clock. “Bruce, yes or no, fast. The team already has a ten minute head start.”

“I’m in.”

“Then let’s grab a car.”

“One of Tony’s cars that stick out like sore thumbs?” he scoffed, “We can do better than that.”

 

They sped down the Manhattan streets on Steve’s bike, Bruce driving and Natasha clinging to him like a limpet. She wasn’t sure how much of a difference Hulk made to his reflexes in his normal form, but the doctor moved fluidly through traffic at more than twice the speed limit, pushing the motor to its peak as they wove between cars.

Stamford was a fifteen minute flight in a quinjet, and the drive should have been about forty-five minutes, which would have gotten them there more than half an hour after the other Avengers. But Bruce opened the throttle as soon as they hit the turnpike, shooting up the coast. Within twenty minutes the pair were pulling into town, slowing to a semi-reasonable rate on the suburban roads.

The address Natasha had seen was supposedly a carpentry workshop, surrounded by other small businesses and tourist traps. Nat kept an eye on the street signs and tapped Bruce’s shoulder when they were close enough. The scientist pulled over, cutting the engine, and she slid off the bike.

“How are we doing this?” Bruce asked.

“Well the most obvious way is barge in fully Hulked and just start smashing, but we might need to be a little more discreet.”

“There’s no way the others didn’t beat us here.” He pointed out.

“Which means they’ve probably engaged. I assume Smith and Jones have protection, who will be too busy fighting off Ironman and Captain America to notice us sneaking up behind them.”

“Subtle is great, Nat, but I’m not much of a fighter when I’m not green.”

“Just stay close to me. We’ll break Hulk out when surprise stops being so important.”

She started off down the street, Bruce hurrying to keep up. They rounded a corner and spotted the workshop, and Steve taking on two armed guards in the carpark. He was crouched beside a car with his shield as they fired at him, using the corner of the building for shelter. There was a huge hole in the front wall that implied Tony had shown himself in.

Nat signalled for Bruce to duck down behind a mailbox and drew her handgun, getting closer. She aimed over the roof of a car, squeezing the trigger as soon as one of the shooters leaned too far into her sight. He dropped with a bullet between his eyes.

Steve looked around warily for the source of the shot, but the other gunman kept firing and he had to duck again. The captain flung his shield, the metal smacking his assailant in the chin and bouncing off the building.

Nat turned to Bruce. “Let’s go!”

They ran across the yard, Steve catching up as he caught his shield.

“What in God’s name are you two doing here?”

“You wanna argue about it Captain, or do you wanna clear this building?”

They reached the improvised entrance and climbed through the hole cautiously. They were in the main workspace, a couple of overhead lights blown out by something. The rows of machinery were ominously deserted in the half-light, at least one unconscious body strewn over the floor.

“Stark, what’s your status?” Steve whispered.

Natasha and Bruce waited, the redhead’s eyes raking over the room vigilantly.

“He says they found a passage leading down into some kind of lab. There are a lot more soldiers, and we’re not sure if there’s a back entrance.”

“Smith and Jones?”

“Unaccounted for.”

“Let’s get down there.”

 

Steve nodded, leading the way to the back corner where there was what looked like a storeroom. The door was open, and they could see an elevator down into the subterranean level. Someone had cut the wires to make it useless but the top was blown open, and they could hear fighting below. Steve stepped into the hole, dropping to the bottom. Nat followed, landing deftly on her feet. She looked up and waved to Bruce.

“Come on.”

He grimaced, sitting on the edge and lowering himself as much as possible before letting go. The doctor fell with a thud, wincing as she helped him up.

“Ouch.”

“You should put in a little more time at the gym.” Natasha smirked.

The hallway outside was littered with bodies, and ahead in the distance they could see Tony firing his repulses as more armed guards shot at him. A Thor-like bellow drifted down from a room they couldn’t see.

“How big is this place?” Bruce’s brow furrowed.

“I’d say it continues under the surrounding buildings,” Steve shook his head, “It could be multi-level for all we know.”

“Let’s keep moving.”

Steve took off towards the fighting, Nat hanging back to keep protect Bruce as they crept up the hall. The first rooms they passed, a storage cupboard and a washroom, were both empty. After that was the skirmish between Steve, Tony and the soldiers.

“Thor and Clint must be somewhere ahead. We need to get around this mess and find the targets.” Nat scowled.

“Hulk time?”

She made a face. “I don’t see another way of getting you through safely. Are you gonna be too big to fit down the corridor?”

He grabbed her hand, squeezing for a moment before letting go. “We’re about to find out.”

Bruce hunched over, growling as his skin changed and he started to grow, normal voice shifting to the throaty roar of Hulk. He expanded out above her, head ducked to stop it hitting the ceiling, shoulders scraping the walls.

“This is going to be interesting.” Nat inhaled.

Bruce tore towards the doorway, Steve glancing up at the thundering steps. His eyes went huge.

“Tony!”

The metal man looked over, swore loudly, and wrapped a hand in the back of Steve’s belt. He took off, dragging the blond through the air as Hulk collided with the guards, flattening them with a crunch that made even Nat queasy. She kept her eyes above floor level as she bounded after him.

The hall opened into a massive room that was a cross between a lab and a production line, boxes of vials lining the conveyor belts. Steve, Tony, Clint and Thor were fighting soldiers, causing more than a little damage to the machines in the process. Hulk shoved himself through the doorway, breaking off sections of the brickwork, and looked back at Natasha expectantly. The redhead scanned the room. There were no other exits, but there was a huge freight elevator on the far wall.

 

“There.” She pointed.

Hulk scooped her up, Nat climbing onto his shoulders and holding on tight. Hulk jumped, clearing the breadth of the room in one go, and slamming his fist through the elevator door. He yanked the debris out of the way and stepped into the shaft, bending his legs to push off. Nat closed her eyes and prayed as they rocketed towards the top, but Hulk grabbed onto the sides just before her head hit the roof.

He pried the doors apart and ducked through. They were in another workshop, but this one didn’t even have the pretence of a business: it was completely empty apart from some vans and pallets of packaged vials. A black car was parked by a half-open roller shutter, two men about to climb in the back while a third opened the driver’s door.

“Mr Smith, Mr Jones!” Natasha yelled, “We have some unfinished business.”

The man on the left grabbed the driver’s gun from its holster under his arm, aiming at Hulk. Nat fired, shotting it out of his hand. The driver ducked behind the bonnet as the gun tumbled into the car, the other man diving inside to retrieve it as his partner clutched his bleeding hand with a scream. He brought up the barrel and shot.

Nat expected a bullet that would bounce off the green giant. She was thrown by the silver dart sticking out of his chest instead.

“Oh shit.”

Hulk yelled in pain, twisting and writhing so much she fell off his back, rolling when she hit the ground. Natasha quickly crawled behind a stack of boxes, glancing back at Hulk. He’d shrunk down, laying prone with his arms out as his skin turned pale again.

“Bruce?”

He didn’t move. Nat cursed herself for being such an idiot. She couldn’t let Smith and Jones get their hands on him again. She jumped out and fired, catching the man who’d tagged Bruce in the shoulder. He dropped his gun, staggering back against the car door.

The man she’d shot first clutched his wounded hand to his chest as he worked another gun out of his waistband, aiming at her shakily. Nat ran across the room and vaulted herself at him, kicking the gun away and slamming his face into the side of the car. His eyes rolled up and she dropped him, sliding over the back of the car to tackle his colleague as he tried to escape. Natasha pinned his arms, trying to hold him flat as he struggled and kicked.

Something clicked near her left ear and she froze.

“Good choice, Agent Romanov,” her captive chuckled, “Now on your knees, very slowly.”

She raised her hands and pushed back into a kneeling position. The driver stood over her with a sawn-off shotgun, smart enough to keep out of arm’s reach. The man stood, dusting off his front, and curled his lip at her.

“Kessel should have strangled you while you were still unconscious.”

He nodded to the driver and Nat steeled herself. She had to move fast, muscles already preparing to roll under the car and out of the way.

There was an angry, animalistic roar of outrage and then a pallet of boxes flew past her, slamming into the driver and carrying him across the room into the roller door with a deafening boom. Nat ducked as Bruce launched himself at their kidnapper, flattened him on the concrete.

“Don’t kill him!” she shouted.

Bruce looked up, teeth bared, eyes hollow and green. She blanched, breaking into a nervous sweat. This was nightmare Bruce, not her friend. Nat backed up, trying to keep her movements slow.

 

Bruce stood, a leg bone crunching under his foot as he stepped over the unconscious man. He seized Nat by the shoulders and she shrieked, pushing against his chest as he pressed her back against the car. He leaned in and sniffed her neck, and she bit back an involuntary sob.

“Bruce?”

He looked up at her and grunted, letting go. The scientist walked away, crouching in the middle of the room like a sentry.

Natasha was so stunned she couldn’t move. Her legs gave out, body sliding down the car until her ass connected with the concrete floor. She was trembling badly, her breath catching in her throat, and her arms felt bruised where Bruce had grabbed her but she was okay. He hadn’t been interested in her after all. He was still in control, despite the effects of the dart.

There was a noise from the elevator shaft and then a clang as Steve climbed out, shield hitting the floor. He scanned the room and raised a brow at the scene.

“Tasha?”

“Steve.” She tried a smile.

“Any hostiles remaining?”

“Not that I know of. I think these are Smith and Jones.” She said without moving, not quite ready to get up yet.

The captain moved towards her and Bruce snarled, jumping into his path.

“What?” the blond frowned.

“Steve, he’s not himself!” Nat explained hurriedly, scrambling to her feet, “They injected him with something again. He looks like Bruce but he’s not.”

The captain froze as Bruce’s eyes narrowed, the doctor leaning in to sniff him critically. Nat approached carefully, making her footsteps loud and obvious before she laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Steve’s a friend, alright? He’s our friend.”

He huffed sceptically but straightened, posture losing its defensive edge. Steve relaxed.

“I’ll call this in.” He nodded, walking around them to examine the man with the broken leg.

“Tasha hurt?”

She looked up to find bright green eyes boring worriedly into hers. “No, I’m not hurt.”

Bruce-Hulk gave a terrifyingly wide grin and took her hand, tugging her towards him so hard she almost tripped over her feet. He nudged her towards a crate on the floor. Natasha sat, and he dropped back into a crouch beside her.

“Keep Tasha safe.”

“I’m okay,” she smiled, putting a hand on his knee, “Really. All the bad guys are dead or comatose.”

“Keep Tasha safe.”

He mimed a man holding a rifle and pointed at the upturned and broken heap covering what was left of the driver.

“You did. You saved me.”

“No surprises. Keep Tasha safe.”

Nat leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grunted, looking flustered, and turned his face away; Natasha thought it might have been the cutest moment of her life.

*****

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

Nat bit the inside of her cheek. “Some.”

Fury gave her a withering look. “I should throw you in a cell right now, awaiting court-martial!”

“Sir-” Clint started.

“Shut it Barton, I’m not interested!”

“Yes sir.”

Nat barely held back a sigh. Tony and Thor had escorted their prisoners to Medical to check for Hulk damage, while Steve carried the man himself. He’d passed out on the jet back, head in Nat’s lap.

“You took Dr Banner into an environment bursting with people who want to use him to recreate some kind of super-powered army for God knows what, after I specifically ordered you and him to stay away. And what happened? They drugged him again!”

“Sir, Bruce maintained control-”

“By some miracle, yes he did. But he could have destroyed every human being in the city. Forget disciplinary hearings, that would have been a mass murder charge!”

“But he didn’t,” Natasha pressed her lips together, “Bruce is not dangerous without other, bigger factors, like the chemical cocktail they gave him last time. I didn’t think the risk was worse than us missing out on Hulk’s firepower.”

“You weren’t supposed to be there at all!”

“And if we hadn’t been, Smith and Jones would have escaped.”

“The ends do not justify the means, agent.”

“Isn’t the reverse our usual motto?”

Fury’s face darkened. “Natasha Romanov, you are suspended from duty while you await a full review of your conduct. If you are found to have acted under a reasonable belief that Dr Banner was no threat, you will be expelled from the Avengers Initiative and transferred to another base of operations. If you are found to have been negligent and irresponsible, you will be discharged and possible face prison time for reckless endangerment.”

Nat dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Fury would never discharge her; he would never let her loose to go back to her old mercenary life, and they both knew prison wasn’t enough to keep her out of his way. If the review board ruled against her, she could expect an assassination attempt within the hour. She could hear Clint preparing to say something and turned to cut him off, stopping abruptly.

Bruce stood at the office door in a hospital gown, Steve right behind him with an apologetic look. “What are you talking about?”

“Dr Banner, you should be in Medical.” Fury glowered.

“I’m sorry sir, I was just telling him to head back.” Steve said sheepishly.

“You want to send Nat away?” the scientist continued, taking a step into the room.

“She defied orders.”

“I defy orders all the time. Sir.” Steve added hurriedly.

“Yeah, there’s no shortage of insubordination at Avengers Tower.” Clint added.

 

Fury pointed at her indignantly. “Her actions endangered not just civilians but all of you as well. I cannot turn a blind eye.”

Clint snickered and Nat elbowed him hard in the gut, the archer crumpling over the back of a chair with a groan.

“Natasha is a vital member of the team. She is professional, efficient and intelligent.  She saved me from agony that would make even you cry like a little girl, and afterwards she was the only person who made me feel like I can trust myself again, even though she was the last person on Earth who should trust me.”

“None of which excuses her for disregarding my instructions.”

“You wanna put her on trial for stuff Tony gets away with every day? You wanna charge her for taking a risk when you trust the team to do the same thing every time we go out? If you want to blame someone for endangering people, arrest me. I’m the one who’s dangerous, right? I’ve killed people, I’ve hurt people, and I’m a rapist. I am just as guilty as her if you’re looking for a criminal.”

Natasha and Clint both stared at him in shock, while Steve seemed to have suffered some kind of apoplexy at the word ‘rapist’ and was glancing between Bruce and Fury as if looking for an explanation. Fury ran his tongue over his teeth.

“You are not held responsible for the past actions of the Hulk, Dr Banner. Miss Romanov does not have the excuse of a split personality or gamma poisoning to defend her stupidass decision.”

“I won’t stay in New York without her.”

“What?”

“Bruce, you don’t have to-”

“I won’t stay in New York, or the US, or on the team, if Natasha’s not part of it.”

Fury scowled. “You don’t get to make those calls, doctor. This is my Initiative and I decide who makes the cut, and she has disqualified herself because she cannot do as directed!”

“Can any of us, really?” Clint quipped.

“Barton, shut up or get out!”

“You know what?” the scientist shook his head, “Forget this. I don’t need more institutional boots on my neck. Natasha, I know it’s not the life you’re used to but believe me when I say it’s better. We can watch each other’s backs and help people without having to be monsters for men like Fury. What do ya say?”

“Neither of you has to do this,” Steve said, “Your place is with the team, and I’m sure Director Fury will agree with us on that.”

“It doesn’t matter, Steve. You guys might convince Nick to make this go away but I’m sick of dealing with people I can’t trust, who don’t trust me.” Bruce glared at the director with a half-smirk.

“Nat?” Clint asked softly.

She looked at Fury. “I told myself when I defected that I’d get to use my skills for good. But I still don’t get to decide what’s bad and what’s good, do I? I take out the targets you assign, and I’m no better informed than I was at the KGB.”

The Russian turned to Bruce.

“I’m ready to try something different.”

 

“Agent Romanov has things to answer for,” Fury interrupted, “She doesn’t get to call time out and swan off with an asset.”

“We are not your property, Colonel. Not yours, not Ross’ and not the KGB’s.” Bruce seethed.

“The only way Natasha is leaving this building is in handcuffs.”

“Try to stop us.” The doctor growled, eyes flashing green.

Nat held up a hand. “Director, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be allowed to go. It solves your problem, doesn’t it? I won’t be around to subvert your command.”

“I think it’s really the best outcome for all involved, sir.” Steve stood to attention, hands on his hips.

Clint examined his nails idly. “You’ll avoid a lot of unwanted attention from the WSC.”

“I am not going to be manipulated by your ridiculous ideas of what’s right.”

“Isn’t that the point of this conversation?” Nat tilted her head, eyes cold.

Clint walked over and slung his arm around Fury’s shoulders. “Director, look at it this way: you can’t keep them. You don’t really wanna keep them, cos then you have to discipline Nat and all that jazz, and try to win Bruce over again – which I’m gonna say at this point is impossible. Losing their skill sets is a bummer but the team can function until we get replacements, so you don’t need to keep them. At this point it’s just pride, and we’ve all read enough Greek tragedies top know how that works out.”

“We have?” Steve frowned.

“Barton,” Fury forced out through his teeth, “If you don’t take that arm off me you will lose it.”

“So we’re agreed!” the archer clapped his hands and sidestepped away, “They’re off the team and out of your hair.”

“And we all know you’ll keep tabs on us anyway, so we’ll be on our best behaviour.” Nat smiled.

“I think Tony and Thor will appreciate your understanding, director.” Steve said, jaw set firmly.

Fury inhaled sharply and waved a hand. “I want you all out of my sight in the next fifteen seconds. I have an interrogation to get to.”

“Fine with me.” Bruce spun, storming out.

Clint leaned over. “The billowing hospital gown adds such flair, don’t you think?”

Nat rolled her eyes and ignored him, looking at Fury. “Thank you sir, for everything.”

Then she followed Bruce out, confident that wouldn’t be the end of it, but feeling a lot better about this particular decision than most of the ones that led her to this point.

 

Thor and Tony were respectively shocked and pissed they’d missed the confrontation, but after an abridged explanation from Natasha and Bruce, the billionaire laughed.

“I salute you, really I do. Brucey standing up to authority? Nat shaking off the shackles of government servitude?”

“Hey!” Clint glared.

“Sorry Big Bird – actually, I’m not sorry, take all the offence you like, government lackey. I think we need to celebrate this.”

“Tony, we should start packing. Fury isn’t happy and the longer we stay, the longer he has to change his mind.” Bruce stuck his lip out.

“He’s not gonna lay a hand on either of you in my Tower, or so help me I’ll bring his precious house down around his ears. And you two are jetting off, new adventures, wild places! That deserves a going away party.”

“I’d like a party.” Nat said.

“See?” Tony gestured excitedly, “Party it is! I’ll order more booze, Thor’s on food, Clint’s on music and Steve can call friends and acquaintances. Scatter!”

Clint jumped off the couch and pressed his hand to his heart with a noble expression. “The most important mission of all.”

The Avengers split up to handle their delegated task and Nat found herself alone in the living room across from a very bashful Bruce in his daggy post-Hulk pants and a purple t-shirt that said ‘I *bow and arrow* Hawkeye’.

“Hey.”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed the back of his head for a moment, suddenly blurting out words like he couldn’t stop them. “Sorry about before, at headquarters. I probably should have discussed that with you in private first. I mean why would you even want to come live like a nomad with me, right? After everything…and with all the risks…”

“Bruce, it’s fine. You offered and I thought it was a good idea.”

“Cool. I just felt like I couldn’t be here anymore, you know? I get claustrophobic when I can feel too many walls around me, even if they’re not physical ones.”

“I get that.”

“Which is why I asked,” he nodded enthusiastically, “I figured you’re the kind of person who might have always wanted to run away but no one had ever given you permission. And you seem to like me, which is a bonus, and you’re good for Hulk. And me. You’re good for both of us.”

“Any idea where we’re going?” she smiled.

“Haven’t got a clue. I assume you’ve been everywhere anyway.”

She shrugged thoughtfully. “There are a few places I never got around to.”

“I’ll pack for the unexpected.”

“We need to get off grid first though.”

“Tony said he’d lend us his jet to get out of the country.”

“Jets are traceable. I’m thinking more like we call in a favour from Thor and borrow one of his teleporting friends.”

Bruce grinned. “That would be amazing.”

“So start thinking of hideaways, Bruce, cos this is our last night in the big city.”

 

In the end it was just the team, Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. Natasha didn’t have a lot of friends, and Bruce had fallen out of contact with his years ago. But there was punch and pizza and good beer and awesome music with the view from the deck for scenery, and everyone suggested places for them to go until Tony got Jarvis to pull up a holographic world map they could throw virtual darts into.

“You have to send postcards.” Steve said.

“And photos.” Clint nodded.

Tony gave a scornful huff. “Forget that sentimental crap, I want souvenirs. Priceless relics if you can get them.”

Nat laughed. “Sure Tony, I’ll raid some tombs to get you shiny things you could buy yourself anyway.”

“Stolen is always better, we all know this.” He flicked his hand, a dart appearing in Turkmenistan.

“If that’s the case, I’m breaking into your good liquor.” She got up.

“Why not? If I have to say farewells, they might as well be fond.” Tony smiled.

She kissed his cheek, hugging him tight. “You’re not too bad, Stark.”

“Oh Miss Romanov, you’ll make me blush!”

The redhead laughed and went inside to the bar, crouching to pick the lock on the cabinet of expensive stuff. A pair of legs dropped into view, feet dangling.

“Hey Clint.”

“Hey Red.”

She smiled. The doors clicked open and Natasha scanned the contents. “Vodka or scotch?”

“Vodka.”

“Right answer.” She smiled, taking it out and standing to grab glasses.

“This is pretty crazy.”

“I guess,” she poured for both of them, “But not that weird, when you look at my record.”

“I can’t believe you finally broke out of agent mode. You’re so good at the job.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good at _that_ job.”

“Strange time to have that revelation. So what is it, you have feelings for Banner?” he scoffed with the attitude of a jealous teenage boy.

She shook her head. “It’s not like that. It couldn’t be, for either of us. But we both know what it’s like to be controlled, and used, and hunted. To have people look at you and only see a weapon. There’s a sense of solidarity in that.”

“Well what about me?” he pouted, “I thought we were buddies.”

“We are.”

“What if I miss you? You’re gonna be gallivanting around with Dr Do-good, saving lives and curing world hunger and stuff, and I’ll just be stuck here babysitting these costumed weirdos.”

“At least you won’t be bored.”

“I’m serious, Nat. There’s no one else I’d pick to be by my side when shit goes down.”

“I have a feeling you’ll always know where to find me.” She smirked.

He looked away and Nat wrapped her arms around him, turning his face until he had to look at her.

“Clint, I am going to miss you like crazy, but we’ll find ways to talk. If you asked Tony I bet he’d start some annual moving party where we all meet in the mountains of Columbia or the Gobi desert or something and spent a weekend getting wasted.”

“Oh he totally would.”

“And we have enough tricks from spying to leave messages and swap stories. We’ll be fine.”

“And you’ll look after yourself? Especially with Bruce.”

“Bruce doesn’t worry me at this point.”

“Okay. As long as you’re happy, Tash.”

“I’m going to try to be, Clint. For the first time, I’m going to try really hard.”

 

** _Six months later_ **

Natasha took to the role of nurse incredibly quickly. It might have been her years of battlefield training and mid-op practice, or it might have been the way Bruce gave instructions. He didn’t give orders or directives or missions; he just asked her for help and she gave it.

They were in Bangladesh, near the border with Myanmar, in a tiny village that had too many flies and too few doctors. They’d been on their way out of the country when Bruce told her he wanted to stop and help, and of course Nat said yes.

The villagers gave them a hut to use as an office, and at night they slept on the floor on leaves and blankets and felt the humidity pressing down on them like bricks. During the day Bruce examined the children and gave them what he’d managed to steal and borrow in the way of vaccines and medicine, dressing any open sores, showing them how to keep their blisters and cuts clean. Natasha cleaned his tools and passed him things, and kept the patients calm and cooperative with techniques she’d used on generals and assassins, and made sure they weren’t followed or spotted or recorded.

Tony built a site with better encryptions than the Pentagon, and when she had access she logged on and they watched videos from their friends, updates on missions and social lives and TV shows and whatever the Avengers felt like posting that day. Once it was just Clint dancing around the room to ‘More than a Feeling’ in Raybans and an oversized Hulk sweatshirt. Once it was Tony and Pepper announcing their engagement and proceeding to forget the camera was on when they decided to ‘celebrate’. Once it was the whole team sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, and they pretended Bruce and Natasha were really with them the whole night.

 There were things Nat missed but that was a feeling she was used to, and when she stood under the stars in the middle of the jungle with the warm breeze on her face and no place to be, they didn’t seem so important.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this happened, okay guys? I started with no real grand plan, and it just kept going, and i kept being like 'where is this dynamic headed, plot bunny?' and that fluffy bastard was decidedly reticent about it. So I think this can be best summed up as a very long, strange story about two people who need each other in unusual ways, and let's pretend that was on purpose.


End file.
